


Our Pretty Little Snow Angels

by MirkatManor



Series: Our Pretty Little Snow Angels [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, High School, John Winchester's Bad Parenting, M/M, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Schmoop, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-24 04:25:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirkatManor/pseuds/MirkatManor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean didn't need to graduate college, but he did need to graduate high school. Unfortunately, he also needed some way to get through this year in one piece. Preferably, with his sanity intact. Who knows? Maybe the weird kid with the blue eyes can help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"No, my dad can't sign any papers. He's... busy." Dean lied.

"Mhm," the woman in the front office responded. "And I'm the president. Maybe, if your dad can take some time out of his schedule, we can get together over coffee and discuss the affairs of the nation."

He so did not need this right now.

"Listen," he looked down to the woman's name tag. "Missouri..."

"Ms. Moseley." She corrected.

"Ms. Moseley," he began again, flashing a nauseatingly charming smile. "You look wonderful in that blouse."

"You know how else this blouse would look wonderful?"

"How?"

"If it was smothering your face."

"Isn't it illegal to say that to a student?"

"You ain't a student yet, honey." She said, gesturing her head to the line labeled 'Parent or Legal Guardian's Signature'.

"Just give me the damn form." He relented, grabbing the piece of paper and walking down the hall. His smile brightened a bit upon seeing his car. Well, it wasn't his car as much as it was his dad's, but it'd been years since he'd actually driven the thing. It was beautiful, a '67 Chevy Impala. It was John Winchester's pride and joy. Well, when he'd still had either.

The car had seen better days, but still had potential. Unlike their father, whom they simply hadn't seen in days.

Dean walked farther into the parking lot, seeing his brother's shaggy brown hair bounce about as he tried to get a better view of the empty school.

He opened the door, trying to suppress a grimace from forming.

"What'd they say?" Sam asked.

"We gotta get dad's signature."

"Shit."

"Yeah," Dean agreed.

"What are we gonna do?"

Dean could hear the desperation in his voice. The poor kid wanted to go to school more than anything, and that was rare and inspirational in and of itself. The least he could do to make Sam's transition to high school an easy one. He was nerdy as anything, and Dean loved him for it.

"It's no problem."

"How do you figure that?" He asked, incredulously.

"Through the magic of forging, Sammy."

"One: That's not legal, and you know it. Two: don't call me that."

"The best shortcuts never are, Sammy." Dean smirked.

Sam groaned, unsurprised and a little entertained.

…

The next morning greeted him with a swift slap across the face courtesy of an obnoxious beeping noise and the motel's complimentary brick-like pillow.

Dean smashed the snooze button with a force that easily would have destroyed anything more expensive and less clunky.

"Sam! C'mon, it's time to wake up." On one elbow, he propped himself from the bed. He absently scratched at his eyes. His sleep-addled mind eventually took note of Sam's form lingering at the side of his own respective bed. He was nervously fiddling with the batteries of the rabbit eared TV's remote control.

"What are you doing?" Dean let out with a yawn.

"Huh? Oh, nothing." Sam said, his fingers shaking as he shoved the batteries back into the half-functional piece of equipment.

"Don't worry, dude. High school's stupid! You've got nothing to worry about."

Sam stood and took out some cereal from the paint-chipped cabinet.

They settled into a sense of stability, at least for a few minutes. It was strange how easily they fell into a routine that had never existed. They showered, got dressed, ate breakfast. Really an average adolescent human morning. Dean was knocked out of his comfortable monotony upon hearing Sam slam the Impala's door.

"Hey!" Dean shouted. "Don't hurt her! It's okay," he rubbed comforting circles onto the car's hood. "He didn't mean it."

He looked up to find the offender long gone, his body slipping into a narrow doorway. For the second time in Dean's day, a ring hit his ears with such a fervor that he felt the instinct to start hitting things. But this time, it was different. This time there wasn't a snooze button. This time, it was the school bell.

"Shit," Dean said. Shoving his jacket sleeve aside to look at his watch: 8:30. Already late.

With a few mumbled sarcastic comments lost to the wind, his body disappeared inside the brick building, too.

…

Dean's first day went by in what felt like a particularly long and awkward movie montage. The music may have only been in his head, but he'd take what he could get. He made small talk, met people, ate lunch. He spent most of the day worrying about his Sam, really. He didn't feel like having to deal with his own life at the moment. This seemed easier, and it was practically his job anyway. There was one thing, though. There was a girl. Jo. She was hot. There was no denying that. She had beautiful blond hair, and her hazel eyes showed a different shade of brown each time he looked at them, a bit like Sam's.

He was leaning on the Impala when his phone vibrated:

'Be bk tomorow'

Although the text was from an unknown number, the numerous typos immediately destroyed the anonymity, it was from John. Dean didn't like to call him 'dad'. He didn't feel that the man deserved the term of endearment, and generally tried to avoid calling him anything. It seemed to be pretty affective considering how little they saw of him.

Dean actually preferred his father absent. He was always so on-edge whenever John was around. It was obvious that Sam was, too.

Dean stood there staring at his phone, deep in thought, when something hit him hard on the back, and before he knew it, he was face-down on the pavement.

Where the Hell is Sam?

Dean laid there for several years, or they could have been seconds. He really couldn't tell either way. He felt a hand grip his shoulder and yank him and somehow got him sitting on his ass. After a few attempts at blinking out the sunspots in his plane of vision, he gave up and looked for clues as to what in the Holy Hell had just happened. After abruptly turning his head in a fashion that would likely give a weaker neck whiplash, he saw a leg. He was pretty sure it wasn't his own. He was fairly certain he was sitting. Actually, the more he thought about, he kinda felt like he was flying. Or maybe he was asleep. Truth be told, he was pretty out of it.

The aforementioned leg's owner stooped down, meeting Dean at eye-level. This kid's eyes were damn blue. Dean had never seen the ocean, but he could've sworn he was getting a brief glimpse of one right now. He could have stared into them forever, and the other kid, who seemed about his age, looked content to do the same. It was pretty unnerving, actually. This unadulterated focus completely on him. Wait, the kid wasn't just staring longingly into his eyes. He was adjusting his eyelids to get a better look, he was literally examining him.

"What the... What?" He attempted.

"What's your name?"

"What's yours?" Dean countered.

"Would you please answer my question?"

"I asked you first!"

"No, you didn't." The boy reasoned.

"Yes I... wait, no I didn't. Never mind."

"Hold still." He said, pulling his eyelids apart and finding a keychain with a tiny-flashlight attached.

"Woah there, buddy-boy." Dean replied, attempting to swat at the incoming light.

"Hold still." He repeated, forcefully.

"Okay, ma'am, no need to get your panties in a twist."

"I'm not a woman."

"Are you sure? Because you can never be totally sure."

"No, I have a penis and identify as male. I'm quite sure."

"You have a penis? I have a penis! Huh. That's funny."

"Hilarious," he dead-panned. He shined the light in Dean's left eye, then his right, watching his pupils dilate and making a diagnosis. "You are concussed." He concluded.

"Oh yeah, talk dirty to me."

"We should get you to the nurse and check you out."

"What's your name, blue-eyed wonder?"

"Here's hoping that, that nickname doesn't stick." He mumbled.

"I heard that! I hear things."

"Congratulations. Let's get you inside." The boy said, picking Dean up bridal style.

Sam walked to the car, and upon seeing Dean being carried away, quickly changed his previous destination.

"Can I help you?" Sam asked, approaching the pair. The other boy froze in his tracks, dropping Dean onto his feet. "Dean, what's going on?"

"We're going to Disney World!"

"We uh- we're what?"

"'I wanna go-o-o out tonight'." Dean sang.

"Oh my God. That's Rent. Isn't it? He's singing show tunes!"

"'You wanna prowl, be my night owl'." He started to mumble.

"Did you drug him?!" Sam turned to the boy.

"No!" He sputtered, backing away.

"Who are you?"

Another man came to them, then. He was shorter than them, with light brown hair and honey-colored eyes.

"I'm Gabriel, and that," he gestured to the other boy. "Is Castiel."

"What's wrong with my brother?" Sam asked, not calming down at all.

"He- uh- concussion." Castiel stuttered, and Gabriel glanced at him, his expression indiscernible.

"A concussion? How?" Sam proceeded.

"I've fallen and I can't get up!" Dean exclaimed.

"He fell. The kid fell." Gabriel said, frustratedly.

"Shouldn't we get him some help?" Sam asked.

"Based on his numerous pop culture references, I'd say he needs all kinds of help." Gabriel responded.

"I... I was taking him to the nurse." Castiel added.

"I'll help you." Sam said.

"What's your name?" Gabriel asked.

"Sam."

"And his?"

"Dean."

"Well, nice to meet you both."

Sam and Castiel wrapped their arms around Dean's waist and helped him walk toward the building.

"Okay!" Gabriel called. "I'll be right here if anyone needs me!"

...

Dean left the office with a bag of ice atop his head, a vomit-pail, and a body pumped full of Advil.

"I will never let you live this down. Ever." Sam promised, still assisting Dean's walking with Castiel's help.

"Rent is awesome, and you know it."

"Maybe we can sign you up for dance lessons later."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"There you are!" Gabriel called. "I was starting to think they were performing major surgery in there!"

"Gabriel, could you start the car, please?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah, no problem, kiddo."

Castiel leaned down and picked up Dean's abandoned phone.

"Thanks, Castiel." Sam said, graciously taking it.

"I know you have a penis." Dean yelled.

"Dean!" Sam scolded.

"You don't wear panties. Well, you might. That isn't any of my business, now is it? Unless you want to tell me. I'd actually kinda like to know. You seem like the type to-"

"Dean, enough!" Sam said, not too harshly. "I swear, it's like I'm the older brother sometimes." He shook his head.

"Thanks." Dean grabbed Castiel's arm and squeezed it several times.

"What are you doing?" Sam whispered to Dean.

"Being sociable." Dean responded.

"No, you're molesting his shoulder."

"It's affectionate. It's good molesting."

"We should go." Sam said. "Dean, let go of the shoulder."

"But it's a nice shoulder!"

"He really needs a nap." Sam extracted Dean's arm from Castiel's.

"Thanks again. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I hope so." Castiel smiled, and grabbed Dean's arm and squeezed it in friendly competition. He reached toward Castiel's arm, but the boy was already out of reach and running toward his car.

"You are insane." Sam waited until Castiel was out of ear-shot.

"Rent really does have a fantastic soundtrack."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys. I just made this account a few hours ago and I'm trying to get my account up to speed with my other two (on LiveJournal and fanfiction.net). This is my first (and only) multi-chapter fic to date, and it is completed on both other websites. However, I decided to put this one up chapter by chapter, rather than all at once. Beware that on both other platforms, the chapter separations are different (that's just the way it worked out, don't blame me), so trying to cheat and look for new chapters may result in unintended spoilers (or intended, depending on what you're going for). The chapter separations will probably also be slightly different here, too, so I don't exactly know how many chapters there'll end up being. I would encourage you to stick with me here and subscribe for new chapters, but since the whole thing is already written, chapter updates should be frequent. Please enjoy, guys! And please comment/give kudos and all that other stuff you crazy kids do on this website. I'm still trying to figure it out for the time being, but hopefully I'll get it soon. Thank you again!


	2. Chapter 2

After sleeping more than he had in the past 6 months combined, and several likely unnecessary off-days, Dean returned to school.

"Hello, Dean." The gravelly voice seemed to materialize inches from his body.

"Jesus!" Dean exclaimed at the seemingly instantaneously forming teenager.

"No, 'Castiel'."

Dean proceeded to fix Castiel a look that could only be described as a mix of 'are you shitting me' and just plain wonder. He seemed so untouched by everything. His eyes tried to perceive all they could. Like he'd been living in a box, and wanted to see everything possible before he was shoved back in.

"Yes, I remember your name." Dean said matter-of-factly. "Where are you going?"

Castiel took out a perfectly folded paper from his pocket and proceeded to study it diligently. "It would appear I'm headed to the third floor for AP American Literature II."

"Jeez," Dean answered, letting out an impressed whistle. "You aren't screwin' around, huh?"

"No, I suppose not." Castiel said, more of a question than anything else. "What class are you going to?"

"What class am I going to? Well, that's a complicated question, Cas." Dean replied, only partially aware of the nickname he'd just used.

"Why is that?" The, now, confused boy responded. Luckily, he didn't seem upset by Dean's nickname for him.

"Well, technically, I should also be headed to the third floor for English, but I'll be damned if I actually wind up there any time soon." Dean laughed.

"Pardon?" Cas asked.

So it turns out Cas' box was thicker than what Dean had anticipated.

Cas manipulated Dean to walk up the stairs with him and explain exactly what he'd meant. However, by the time he'd finally gotten Cas to understand, he found himself standing in front of his first period class, staring his teacher straight in the face.

"Son-of-a-bitch." Dean muttered under his breath.

"Sorry?" Cas said, laughing a bit to himself.

"That right there? That wasn't too shabby, Novak." Dean said, as he began an only half-sarcastic slow clap.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." Cas said, mockingly.

"Yeah, yeah," he laughed. "I'll see you at lunch?" He said, inviting the boy to eat with his friends.

"Only if you take notes during your class." Cas said.

"Not a problem." Dean replied nonchalantly.

"Legible notes. Preferably written in English."

"But I'm concussed!" He whined.

"Your problem, Winchester. Not mine." Castiel walked into his classroom.

Dean didn't notice he was moving until he was sitting in his desk with his notebook out.

...

Cas sat with Dean at lunch that day. Well, it wasn't just Dean. It was a group comprised of Dean, Jo, Ruby, Ash, and Chuck. While nothing out of the ordinary happened, Dean could see Cas noting every aspect of the apparent social protocol of 21st century teenagers.

As Dean shamelessly flirted with Jo, he could've sworn he saw something happen in Cas. It was just out of the corner of his eye, sure. But he saw a brief wavering of his unending gaze. Before he could ponder it further, he continued his idle dialogue with the cute girl sitting next to him.

...

Dean was worried, and he supposed he should be. While school was a nice distraction, there was no forgetting the fact that John would be home today. Dean didn't want him back. While he wasn't exactly a perfect role model, he couldn't have his father trying to mess with Sam. He still had time, he was a good kid, and Dean would sooner commit patricide than see anything unsavory happen to his kid brother.

As Sam walked out of the high school fumbling with something in his backpack, Dean's stomach dropped. He wasn't ready to go home yet.

John might be there.

Dean saw someone beside Sam, smirking a bit. As they walked closer Dean saw who the figure was. It was his saving grace with blue eyes.

"Dean!" both boys yelled out, simultaneously.

"Hey!" Dean replied, equally as loud although they were now within hugging distance.

"How was school, Sammy?"

"Awesome!" Sam replied.

He ruffled his hair. "So what made today so 'awesome'?" Dean asked.

"Well, Castiel is in my book club last period of the day. So we talked and hung out. Funny what having a senior strike up a conversation with you will do to your social status."

Dean smiled, seeing his brother beaming like this made him almost as happy as Sam.

"God, you got Sam to make him friends? I think I'm starting to like you!"

"I think I'm starting to like you too, Dean."

It wasn't an answer that Dean would have expected, and that made it all-the-more flattering.

"It's not that I wasn't paying attention! Side conversations are allowed!" Sam was happy to fill the developing silence.

"Conversations related to the assigned subject matter are, in fact, encouraged." Cas added.

"Well, regardless, thanks so much for keeping this little guy company while I was off doing, you know, non-book related things." Dean said, clearly antsy.

After getting in the Impala and mutually waving goodbye, Dean started up the car.

"You need to hang out with him more." Sam said.

"Yeah, I do." Dean said, his fingers hopping along the steering wheel to a nonexistent song.

"So, what's wrong?" Sam asked.

The music stopped.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sam, I'm sorry."

"For what? Our shit father, or for neglecting to mention that he'll be showing up at our doorstep any minute!?"

"We've talked about this-"

"Yeah, Dean, I'm sick of talking. We need to get this guy out of our lives, he's poison!"

"He's our father, and he's the only one we've got."

The silence that filled the Impala became a weight felt by both of them.

...

Dean saw the rusty old pick up truck in the parking spot outside of their room. Everything about the sight was miserable and pathetic.

He turned to Sam and saw another angry face. But, it wasn't all anger. It was laced with fear, with rebellion. Things that Dean knew were in his little brother that he desperately tried to keep under the surface, but all his effort was lost whenever John came back.

They both stood in the parking lot for a few moments. The silence of the car seeming to follow both of them. After a mutual sigh, they each took a step forward, and prepared for the inevitable abyss that they were, once again, heading into.

"Hey, b-boys!" John exclaimed, and even from the other side of the cramped motel 'suite' they could smell the whisky on his breath.

"Did you drive here?" Dean asked, upset by his own misplaced and genuine concern.

"No. I walked." John replied, hiccuping and slurring his way through every other word.

Dean looked over to Sam, but his face was unreadable.

"Where were you?" Dean asked, attempting to bring John back to the land of the mentally stable.

"Hell," he deadpanned.

Well, so much for that idea.

"Where were you?" Dean asked, agitatedly.

John carelessly tossed him a postcard that read 'Welcome to Hell, Michigan!'.

"John, that's fifteen hours away. What are you... going on a tour of the U.S.? You know you have a family here!" Dean lost his temper.

"Did you just call me 'John'?"

Dean began to panic.

"Who the fuck do you think you are'?!" The man yelled, screaming to the point that Dean was sure people in the other rooms could hear.

"Sam, go to the car." Dean said, trying to hold back the tears forming in his eyes.

"But, Dean, I-"

"Just go!"

Sam took the car keys and his backpack and left the room.

"I am your father, and you will show me some resp-"

The man stopped, holding back a pint of whisky and his breakfast from seeing him again.

He began to giggle.

"You've got him on a nice little leash there, don't ya?" John asked.

"What?"

"The kid? He's... he's listenin' to ya'."

"That's what happens when you're there."

"God."John said, pronouncing the word as dramatically as possible. "when I'm here, you want me gone. When I'm gone, you want me here. You two gotta make up your minds." He said, continuing to giggle to himself.

"You know why I let you come back?!" Dean began. "Because I think to myself, every fucking time, that maybe you'll be different! Maybe you've changed! Maybe I'll see you sober for the first time in a decade! But you know what? Every time, every goddamn time, I've been wrong. And you've had this long. You're clearly not gonna get any better. But, you know, like an idiot, like a fuckingkid, I keep some hope toward you. Just a little, it's not much, but it's enough. It's enough to let you come back, and screw with my life, and more importantly, screw with Sam's. But no. Not anymore. I want you gone. I want you out of our lives. You have done no good for us. You're... you're hopeless."

"Fuck you." He hissed.

"Excuse me?"

"Fuck you."

"You have until the end of the week. If you're not gone by then, I'm calling the cops." Dean said, walking out the door, leather jacket, and backpack in hand.

"You do realize... that's my jacket you love so much." John told him.

"Keep it," Dean said, carelessly throwing it at the ground. He stormed out the door.

Dean got in the car and started the ignition. Sam sat quietly in the passenger's seat, tapping a pencil on his notebook.

"We're getting our own room tonight, Sammy." Dean said, expressionless. He started the car.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked.

"To Walmart. I gotta get a new Jacket."

...

After getting as good a night's sleep as Dean could muster, he and Sam went to school. Although Dean hadn't known his friends long, he genuinely did like them. Dean wanted to get as far from his father as humanly possible, this was a start.

The day dragged by painfully slowly. Dean's mind seemed to be trying its best to tear him apart, thought by thought. He couldn't stand what John's presence might be doing to Sam. Dean may have already been screwed up beyond repair, but if Sam got hurt, he'd rip somebody's lungs out.

In the middle of Algebra he couldn't take it anymore. He needed something to take his mind off of this. He needed something fun, something easy, something stupid.

Dean Winchester needed a girlfriend.

It was during lunch that he asked her. He would've preferred to have dragged out any sexual tension between them while longer, but he did it anyways.

"So, I'll see you at 7:00 tonight at the movies?" Dean asked, with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

"See you then." Jo said, her words accompanied by a flirty smile on her face.

Well, at least that wasn't too hard.

...

Dean ran into Cas at his locker, and felt oddly relieved at the sight of the boy.

"Hey, Cas!"

"Dean," Cas said, nodding his head slightly as a form of recognition. "Is it true you're now romantically involved with Jo Harvelle?"

"Dude, you gotta stop using last names. Jo's your friend! You don't need to be so formal."

"That didn't answer my question." Cas retorted.

"I don't like the way you asked it," Dean mockingly answered.

"Alright, how exactly should I put it, according to your specifications?" There was a bite in Cas' playful sarcasm.

"Oh, now telling you would take all the fun out of it!" Dean giggled. It was a manly giggle. Realizing that this thing with Cas was getting dangerously close to flirting, he got the Hell out of dodge. "Alright, well you text me when you think you've got it, Cas. I gotta go. Bye!"

Dean left the hallway with an inexplicable smile on his face that he'd rather not think about in any particular depth.

...

His date went great. Well, great in the sense that he got to second base. Dean had no clue what the movie was about, but he gladly traded his involvement in a plot line with a good boob-grope. It felt cheap, making out in the back of the room with dim lighting. It was a Friday night, and there was hardly any privacy in the packed theater. It was great in the sense that it was exactly what he'd asked for. Just not exactly what he'd wanted.

After going to Jo's house for more intensive groping and a trip to third base, he began his Journey home. Unfortunately, he needed to stop off at his dad's room in order to grab some money. His date and the purchase of several new hoodies were causing him to run low on funds. It was about 1:30 in the morning, so Dean suspected John would already be in a heavy, booze-induced slumber.

He walked into the room as quietly as he could, but once he looked around, he realized there was no point in his attempted silence. John was nowhere to be found. Dean knew better than to be happy about his father's disappearance. He looked around, waiting any second to find John passed out, on the floor, covered with his own vomit and only half-alive. What he found was much more disturbing.

And there it was. Dean's safe, with all of his savings, cracked open and thrown on the floor.

Dean supposed there was a possibility it could've been a burglar, but the vodka bottle beside the safe suggested otherwise. He hesitantly checked to see the damage.

It wasn't all gone, but enough to make a sizable dent in Dean's life savings.

How thoughtful.

Dean took the bag that had previously been in the safe and trudged it along to his and Sam's new room, tears forming in his eyes. When his phone buzzed.

Cas:

Did you, Dean, go with Jo on a date to see a movie tonight? 11:44 a.m.

Dean couldn't help but laugh. Then his laughter turned into full-out hysterics, bordering on crying. He, in his only somewhat mentally-stable state, decided to call Cas up and tell him exactly how the date went. Cas listened and commented far beyond the point where Dean considered his words to still be interesting.

Then, he couldn't help it.

He told Cas about John. He didn't disclose several choice details, but he gave what he was ready to give. Dean appreciated Cas allowing him to go at his own speed.

"He almost never comes back."

"Do you want him back?"

The line went silent.

"Dean?" Cas said, as if he were asking permission.

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean replied.

"First thing on Monday, I am going to track you down and I am going to hug you. Is that alright?" Dean could hear Castiel's voice cracking, he felt his stomach drop with guilt at the thought that he had made his friend so upset on his behalf.

"Well, we don't have to wait until Monday. I mean," Dean was no longer trying to hold his tears back, he knew that Castiel wouldn't judge him for this. "We could hang out tomorrow, if you'd like to."

"Of course I'd like to!" Cas said, realizing halfway through the sentence that he sounded a bit too enthusiastic. Dean didn't mind.

"Great," Dean said, beginning to giggle like he had earlier in the day. "Would you want to see a movie?"

"Didn't you just see a movie with Jo?"

"Oh, well, if you're not interested-"

"No! A movie sounds great."

"Alright, I'll pick you up at 4:00."

And just like that, Dean established the strongest friendship he had ever had.


	4. Chapter 4

After Cas' promised, and only-slightly awkward, hug took place, Dean was eager as ever to change the subject.

Dean got the feeling that Cas knew nothing about movies.

As it turns out, Dean was right.

At first, Cas suggested seeing the new Disney princess movie. While Dean subconsciously adored Disney, as does everyone, he felt the need to audibly protest in an attempt to secure his manhood.

"Oh, come on, man!" Dean said, while they waited in line at the concession stand's absurdly long line "You're really gonna tell me you've never seen a horror movie?"

Cas proceeded to stare down at his shoes with an all-encompassing embarrassment that could be described as nothing short of adorable.

"Dude, that is ridiculous!" Dean said, slurping his over-priced soda. "Well, that settles it, we've gotta see a slasher movie. You've left me with no other choice."

They stood in silence for a moment, Cas clearly was trying to figure out the best way to phrase what he was thinking.

"Dean, I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"And why is that?"

"I avoid the genre for a reason. I tend to... become frightened easily." Cas said, struggling on the end of his statement.

"How 'easily'?"

"Ambiguous wet stain, 'easily'."

"Fair enough." Dean said, torn between gagging at the excess of information he'd just received, or chuckling at Cas' stoic expression as he talked about his own whimpiness. He eventually decided on the latter, and somewhere in his laughter, he watched as the corners of Cas' lips did a little dance and curved upwards.

Dean hadn't realized it before, but he'd never seen the boy smile. Smirk, sure. Laugh a bit, maybe. But never like this. Never with this much light behind it.

What a simple thing a smile is; and what a beautiful simplicity it can be.

Although Cas was clearly petrified, he humored Dean and walked into the dark theater that he knew would prove to be his downfall.

Fortunately for Cas, the initial decapitation wasn't as graphic as he'd anticipated. The camera left the soon-to-be severed head with moments to spare and opted for a shot of a blood splattered window.

Dean found himself looking at Cas more than he was looking at the movie. He wanted to make sure he was enjoying himself. Dean didn't manage to decipher any kind of response to the movie until the main character, once again, found herself in the killer's grasp. Cas raised a hand to cover his eyes. By the way Cas kept moving his eyes slightly out of his palm's reach, Dean knew he was enjoying himself, even if all logic told him he shouldn't.

"She's not gonna die, you know." Dean loudly whispered to Cas in a way he suspected was heard throughout the theater.

Just as the last echoes of his words disappeared, she did, in fact, die.

"But then again, what do I know?" He continued, slightly quieter than last time. He wanted the conversation to only be between him and Cas, not shared with anyone else in the audience.

There it was again, that illusive smile threatening its way back onto Cas' face. Dean couldn't help but smile back.

The remaining 20 minutes of the movie contained a lot of revenge, and a lot more stabbing. Dean could hear Cas' little whimpers of muffled terror whenever another person was unnecessarily impaled. Dean kept laughing, not at the movie, but at Cas' increasingly adorable responses.

when every last character had been killed in a gruesome and creative way, Dean and Cas hopped out of their seats in the rapidly emptying theater and went out to the Impala.

In the car, Dean turned on the radio and continued to jam out as the classic rock filled overflowed out the crack in the window. Cas didn't join in, but he watched Dean inquisitively. Dean knew he was being studied, he could feel eyes on him, but his attention was required to complete a one-handed air guitar solo, so he couldn't care less.

Finally, Cas' face had changed from one of wonder, to one of fondness. Dean found his mood drop a bit as he pulled into the house's small driveway.

"Thanks, Cas," he said.

"For what?" Cas asked, as he opened the passenger-side car door.

Dean's lack of articulacy be damned, he wanted to make what he was about to say meaningful. Instead, he settled for sounding like a toddler who didn't yet have the ability to form coherent sentences.

"I- just- thanks," Dean stuttered out.

Luckily, Cas seemed to understand.

"Of course, Dean." Cas said.

And with one final smile of the night, they waved goodbye, and Dean started home.

...

Dean was still inexplicably glowing after being with Cas. Unfortunately for his good mood, he heard the sounds of a certain teenager yelling at a certain middle-aged drunk. After hearing Sam use up what he hoped was a sizable amount of his brain's repertoire of curse words, Dean trekked up the few stairs in the way between him and their room.

"Why are you here? You don't love us! Hell, you don't even like us!" The sounds were muffled through the thin door, but Dean could hear Sam's infuriated voice much too clearly.

"Damn right I don't like ya'! Why would I like a lil' brat like you?" John's voice was much calmer than Sam's. Alcohol had a tendency to destroy their father's passion when it came to... well, everything. Unfortunately his relationship, or lack there of, with his sons was no exception.

Dean mindlessly fumbled with the key. He could feel adrenalin pumping through his veins, already. He got a bizarre rush from these fights. It was his personalized, sick, version of family togetherness.

Without further ado, the key slipped into the lock and Dean stumbled inside the fray just as Sam yelled a deafening "Just leave us alone!"

"Maybe I fuckin' will!" John said, momentarily losing his composure. "Look who decided to show up."

"Hi, Dean." Sam said, looking small.

"Dad, why are you in our room?" Dean asked.

"What, I'm not allowed to see m'boys?"

"We're not your boys." Sam muttered.

"Wanna say that again, you little shit? Huh? 'M just dying to hear all those ideas you got up in that screwed-up head o'yours."

"Shut up!" Dean yelled, wind simultaneously slamming the door shut, as if trying to emphasize Dean's point. Apparently the elements were on his side today.

"Fine. You want me gone?" John slurred. "I'm gone. But, I ain't comin' back, I'm tellin' ya' that much,"

"Why would we believe that? You always show up again." Sam said.

"'Cause this time, I don't wanna see ya'. I wasn't ashamed of ya' when I came back. Those were better times."

Dean hated the power John had over him, over them. He knew that fighting on would do nothing but prolong his father's lingering. And he hoped the desperate looks he was shooting Sam were conveying the same idea.

After a half-an-hour of spewing insults solely Dean's way, John finally tired himself out. He wasn't emotionally stable, but he was, at this point, sober, which probably put him in the best driving condition he'd been in for years. The night was hot, the air's moisture tangible, and the sky well-lit by abundant starlight. Dean supposed it was a fitting scene to shove his father in his half-dead clunker and send him on his merry way without so much as a last glimpse of eye contact.

John had left before. Hell, he was gone more often than he was around, but this time felt different. It felt final.

Dean staggered back to the room and glanced at Sam. Next thing he knew, he was all the way across the room, furiously hugging his little brother. Sam was almost taller than Dean now, but Dean still had a good few inches on him, and he intended to make the most of the height imbalance before it shifter out of his favor.

Tears began to drift down Sam's cheeks, being caught in the fabric of Dean's Led Zeppelin t-shirt.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's alright." Dean muttered, rubbing at Sam's back in calming strokes "He's gone, buddy. He's really, really gone." There was a resolve in Dean's words, a conclusion.

Dean wasn't the touchy-feely type, but he'd do anything Sam needed him to. He'd go to the ends of the earth for his little brother, a hug and some consoling words were just part of the job description.

Dean was too tired to cry himself to sleep that night. It wasn't Sam's fault, he didn't know. Dean had tried to stay strong for Sam. And he had. He'd needed to protect his little brother, even if it hurt himself. Dean refused to admit it, but maybe keeping everything bottled up inside wasn't the best strategy for dealing with your feelings. He remained quiet in the dark of the room, for Sam. Not because he couldn't bare hearing himself give up. He did it for Sam. After about an hour, the pillow case was soaked with Dean's insistent weeping. Dean's nausea began to subside as he slipped in and out of consciousness, when his phone buzzed.

Dean reached into his denim pocket that he hadn't bothered to change out of and opened his phone as the brightness burned holes in his corneas. Dean let out an ill-willed chuckle at the pain as another tear dripped down his face. He looked at his text messages to inspect the source of the beeping.

Cas:

Don't forget to be awesome. 11:42 p.m.

Dean smiled before he could think twice. He couldn't believe it. He'd actually, honest-to-god, smiled. On this, possibly the worst night of his life, something as simple as an innocent text from this kid made him smile.

Dean:

I'm definitely starting to like you 11:45 p.m.

Cas:

I'm definitely starting to like you, too. 11:46 p.m.


	5. Chapter 5

 

"Everything's all set for tomorrow night!" Jo said to the whole table, bubbly as always.

Dean's 18th birthday, luckily enough, fell on a Friday night. And Jo, partygoer that she is, had wanted to stage a full-out event for Dean. Fortunately, he'd caught wind of the plan and made Jo reduce whatever epic thing she'd planned into a fun night with their group of friends, but not without alcohol, of course.

"Great!" Becky, Chuck's girlfriend, and new addition to their lunch table, said. She was a bit... well, insane, but she meant well, and that's all that mattered to Dean. He liked the girl, he really did, she could just be a bit much sometimes. "If only there were some cute boys coming," she said, flirtatiously looking at Chuck. Dean smirked and looked at Cas, who returned the look, whispering the word "relentless" as he did so. Dean couldn't help his smile from growing.

The 'party' was held in Jo's basement. It was nice. With beanbag chairs scattered about the room, a pool table, and a dart board, it had a bar-like feel to it, which was only amplified by the numerous beers on the counter. After introducing himself to Jo's much-too laid back mother, Dean headed into the basement.

"Happy birthday!" Everyone screamed in his face.

"You guys!" He exclaimed. "Thank you so much. This is- this is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." He pretended to cry, wiping at his eyes.

"Pizza'll be here in 10 minutes, there's pie in the fridge." Jo said, waltzing into Dean's personal space.

"Pie and beer?" Dean said, gesturing to a 6-pack at waist level. "My kind of woman," he flirted.

Jo giggled as he wrapped an arm around her waste, more out of convention than anything else. Jo was a nice girl. She didn't deserve to be tossed aside as if she were nothing.

"Alright, sit your asses down before you get all grope." Ruby chuckled.

Dean sat next to Cas just a bit quicker than Jo sat next to Ash.

"So, truth or dare, anyone?" Becky suggested.

Dean groaned.

"Oh, come on. It's fun!"

"Get a beer in me, and then ask." Dean said, resolutely.

Luckily for Becky, buzzed Dean was much less reserved than sober Dean, and much less scary than drunk Dean which, as he'd been told, was not a pleasant sight.

"The birthday boy goes first!" Ruby shouted.

"Can't argue with that logic," Dean laughed. "Truth."

"How far have you gone with Jo?" Ruby asked, the room broke out into a simultaneous 'ooh'.

"Now, now, Jo is a respectable woman with whom I would never ruin the sanctity of the varied and numerous sexual deeds we have performed with, and on, one another. However, if she were to give me permission..."

"You can tell them."

Rather than telling, Dean made the foolish decision to give a faux-blow job by sticking his tongue into who proceeded to stare at his fiddling thumbs. Cas' furious blush managed to snap Dean out of his state. Luckily, no one had seemed to notice. Well, no one but Jo.

"Fair enough, but I don't think the full demonstration was entirely necessary." Ruby said.

"Me neither. While I'm all for an encore, I like my privacy." Dean said, laughing at the look of disgust on Ruby's face.

They settled into a rhythm, various people asking various questions and doing various stupid actions for entertainment's sake. Next, it was Jo's turn.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," a slightly drunk Jo said.

"Make out with Dean!" Becky yelped from the background. Jo giggled.

"Pucker up, buttercup!" She said, leaning into the circle created by her friends, and waiting for Dean to meet her half-way.

The line caused Dean to cringe his way into the kiss. It was messy, and far too toungy. He found himself counting the passing seconds in his head, angry at them for passing so slowly.

"Alright, that's enough, you two!" Ash said, physically pulling them away as they parted with a loud smooching sound.

"Okay, who shall be my victim..." Jo said, situating herself back on the ground as she crossed her legs. "Cas!" She decided. "You've been much too quiet! Truth or dare?"

"Truth, I suppose."

"Have you ever played this game before? Oh, and that's not the truth, I was just curious."

"If this isn't the truth, should I lie?"

Dean probably wouldn't have laughed if the sentence didn't sound so genuine.

"No, Cas. You shouldn't lie."

"Then, yes, this is my first time playing this game."

"A simple question, then," Jo pondered. "Tell us the story of your first crush."

Dean stared at Cas, eager to hear the answer, which he did not seem eager to give.

"While we're young, Cas." Chuck said.

"Alright," Cas settled. "His name is Crowley."

The room went quiet.

"I didn't know you were gay." Ruby sliced right through the heavy silence.

"Neither did I." Cas retorted.

"Crowley, as in, drama-kid Crowley?" Dean squeaked.

"You could say that." Cas said.

"Your first crush was this year?"

"Last week."

Dean couldn't help but find this a bit endearing, but also found himself feeling a bit... not jealous. It was a feeling, but it wasnot jealousy. It was simply... unidentified.

"You had your first crush last week?" Dean couldn't help the 'awwww!' vibe that snuck into his words.

"Considering I was home-schooled before this year, any crush would've proven a tad incestuous."

Okay, maybe a bit less cute.

"Forget that," Jo started. "We'll get him to sit with us! Hey, Dean and I were going to go to the movies this week. You and Crowley could come!"

"That would be... nice." Cas said.

Dean wasn't crazy about the thought of a double date. In fact, he wasn't crazy about the thought of him going on a date with Jo, nor was he crazy about the thought of Cas going on a date with, well, anyone. Cas wasn't the kind who deserved to be dated or taken advantage of, Cas was the kind who deserved to be loved.

"Great! We'll ask him on Monday, and if all goes well, it's a date!" Jo said, perkily.

"Yeah, Cas. It's a date." Dean added.

...

Although all remnants of an underwhelming hangover had been gone by Monday, Jo's desire to see Cas with a date was unwavering to say the least. She had, apparently, ventured over to the school's theater to ask Crowley to sit with them, to sit with Cas at lunch.

"And why in god's name would I do that?" the opposing British accent spat out.

"I think someone would be happy to see you there." Jo insinuated with a wink.

"Sorry, sister, but I don't exactly bat for your team." Crowley said, demonstrating by throwing and hitting an imaginary baseball.

"What makes you think I'm the one who's interested?" Jo tried to charm her way through the overwhelming repulsion she felt.

"Seeing as you just gave me the facial expression equivalent of throwing yourself at me, I-"

"Will you be there, or not?"

"From what I have heard of you, Jo Harvelle, you are a trustworthy woman. And I assure you, if you are lying to me, then you will regret it."

"Save your threats for someone who cares," Jo said, leaving the darkened space, silently disbelieving Castiel's taste in men.

...

"You what?!" Dean asked, well, yelled was more like it.

"Oh c'mon!" Jo said. "You know a little action could only do Cas good just as well as I do."

It was true, the guy had a stick up his ass the size of a flag pole, but Dean didn't like Crowley. He'd only talked to him twice, but that was enough. Once to get the physics homework, and once for Crowley to borrow his pencil. But he never did get that pencil back.

Dean growled something akin to recognition as they placed their trays on the wooden table and sank down into their plastic chairs. Becky and Chuck were already there, sharing a plate of fries. How someone could share food, let alone french fries, Dean would never understand, but clearly it was working for them.

Finally, Cas trudged up to the table and plopped his food down with a melodramatic sigh, placing himself at the seat exactly opposite Dean.

"Woah, chill out there, princess." Dean said.

He repeated his previous sigh.

"Cas, you okay?"

"I suppose."

"What happened?"

"I got a 'B' on my _Beowulf_ essay."

Dean laughed an oddly sympathetic chuckle at the look of utter despair and self loathing on Cas' face. Dean had been there before, and if he didn't know better, he'd be offended by the other boy's sadness at such a petty problem.

"You know, I'd kill for a 'B', and hey, man, you're in AP! That's fantastic! You're still smarter than everyone else at this school. You're the best one here." The last sentence slipped out by accident.

"Dean, I could help you with English," Cas said. "But, I completely understand if you're not interested." He continued, with an all-illusive smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

"I'd like that." Dean wouldn't like the studying. He was fairly certain that enjoying studying was a human impossibility. But if he could spend any more time with Cas, it was well-worth it.

"Well, Cas, I'd bet you'll be feeling better soon." Jo said, nodding her head in Crowley's general direction as he came toward them.

"Is he walking over here?"

"Maybe." Jo said.

"Why would he be doing that?"

"Because a little birdy told him to!" Jo chirped.

Crowley stopped at Castiel's feet. He looked down, scanning upwards, until he arrived at his eyes. He subsequently sat down in the seat on Cas' left.

It's always the eyes.

"Hello, Castiel." Crowley said, offering a hand for him to shake.

"Hello." He said, quietly. Defeatedly.

That was the extent of their verbal exchange for the remainder of the period. But that didn't mean Crowley's shameless knee grabbing, footsy-playing ways were lost on anyone. Even if not for the cheap table bobbing about as Crowley continued, the terrified look on Cas' face hid nothing as he gulped down the remainder of his apple juice. Dean liked that. He liked that he drank apple juice. Dean tried to focus on the things that he enjoyed about Cas rather than the blatant travesty happening barely out of sight. It didn't work well.

"Could-you-help-me-today?" Dean blurted out in a barely intelligible string of words.

"Yes!" Cas seemed as eager as Dean.

They made arrangements to meet by Cas'... well, by Cas' Prius after school. He'd been 'working' on the Impala earlier and may or may not have smashed in a window with a sledgehammer. So, needless to say, he was now bound by the restrictions of public transportation and the kindness of his car-owning peer's hearts.

Cas' car was not only a Prius, it was a light blue Prius. Dean's genitalia might as well have just turned inverted on the spot, but, surprisingly enough, it didn't. Dean made sure to notify Sam the moment the plans were finalized.

Just as Cas and Dean got into the throws of a passionate discussion about Led Zeppelin, one of the only bands they mutually liked, Crowley reached around both his and another chair and squeezed Castiel's ass.

An uncomfortable squeal was let out by the receiving boy, and the smug look on Crowley's face easily gave away any sense of mystery. Jo looked ecstatic, Cas looked mortified, and Dean didn't want to be looking.

So he stopped.

And, instead, resorted to kissing Jo.

It was a rash decision. Probably not the best call to begin making out in the middle of a school cafeteria, but Dean didn't care. This wasn't about caring. Cas fell silent as Dean clearly heard Crowley snicker.

It took a very menopausal woman pointedly clearing her throat to get their attention. Dean pried himself away from Jo, who looked less than impressed, but not angry, and wiped his mouth onto his sleeve. He chanced a glance at Cas. He looked broken. Positively broken.

And that broke Dean a bit, too.

...

The frigid November blew rapidly into Dean's face, it made his eyes tear up. All he wanted to do was get in the goddamned Prius. Then, the annoying buzzing came along.

Unknown Number:

im sorry 3:33 p.m.

No he's not.

Unknown Number:

i was wrong 3:34 p.m.

He doesn't really believe that.

Unknown Number:

ill be back soon 3:35 p.m.

No he won't. Dean won't let him.

He said he'd be gone, and Dean had wanted him to stay gone.

"Hello, Dean." Cas greeted as he walked across the cramped parking lot.

"Hey, Cas!" Dean said, perhaps a bit louder than he should have.

"How are you?"

"I'm... fine."

"Dean, what happened?"

"Can we just get in the car?"

Cas immediately unlocked the doors to the wussy vehicle.

"Dean?" Cas said, questioningly.

"Please, just drive."

About five minutes out onto the nearly deserted highway, Dean felt Cas' eyes on him and returned his gaze as he barely even registered the car being pulled over.

Cas just stared at him.

"Cas, it's... it's nothing." Dean felt himself withdrawing.

"This isn't 'nothing', Dean. You're too strong to get upset over 'nothing'."

Dean sighed.

"It's just John again," he relented. "It's really okay. Or... it's going to be okay. He says he's coming back again." It felt so strange to be in the passenger's seat.

"Will he really?" Cas asked.

"He's not one to deny himself what he wants." Dean replied.

"He's also not one to keep promises."

"I don't want him here, Cas. Things were just starting to get good again." Dean said, angry at his lip for quivering. "I was just starting to get good again."

It's just the damn Prius.

"I know, Dean, it's alright. You are good. You were always good."

Dean snapped off his seat belt and hugged Cas for far longer than is socially acceptable.

"I'll watch over you." Cas whispered into Dean's ear.

Dean desperately fought the urge to kiss Cas' lips, and settled to pull away from the hug and press a gentle kiss to Cas' forehead.

"You can pick the music," Dean said, wiping the tears from his face.

"I'm not so sure you'll be happy with the results." Cas said, beaming.

"Yeah, but you will."

It turns out Cas' taste in music greatly resembles his taste in cars. And as Regina Spektor filled the air, and Cas hummed along to the melody, Dean simply had to watch.

_'It started out as a feeling, which then grew into a hope.'_

Cas blushed.

_'Which then turned into a quiet thought, which then turned into a quiet word.'_

So did Dean.


	6. Chapter 6

"Dean, it's okay. Really."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know what you're doing."

"Please, Jo, enlighten me."

"What's happening with you and Cas?"

"Nothing."

"Dean,"

"Nothing."

"Please. I promise, it's alright. Just... just tell me."

"Jo, you're my girlfriend..."

"What if I wasn't?"

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"If that's what it takes to have an actual conversation, then, yes. I guess I am."

"I think that's for the best."

"Alright?"

"Alright."

"Alright..."

"So..."

"So?"

"I want to be your friend."

"We are friends."

"We did this wrong, Dean. I like you."

"Considering you 'like me' and you just broke up with me, I'd say you're doing this very wrong."

"We didn't give us a chance to just be friends. Why does this have to be romantic? I want to get to know you. I want to help you."

"I don't need help."

"Of course you don't."

"But I could use advice. Friend-to-friend?"

"Friend-to-friend."

"I don't know."

"I can't give advice to 'I don't know'."

"But that's the problem."

"What's the problem?"

"I don't know. And that's worse than knowing the most horrible truth. You can't move on from something that's not there."

"Is something there?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what do you know?"

"About you? I know that you're sweet, you're nice, you're pretty, and you're safe. But that took away the thrill of it. I always knew. Not knowing is terrifying, but knowing without trying is boring."

"I'm boring?"

"No, Jo, you're not boring. It's just that he's..."

"Exciting."

"He's a constant source of wonderful terror. You know?"

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Do you really think he likes Crowley?"

"I don't think anyone really likes Crowley."

"Was that advice?"

"Do you feel advised?"

"More so than usual."

"Advice is pointless without action."

"You sound like a fortune cookie.

"Confucius was a brilliant man."

"Thank you."

"Friends?"

"Friends."

"Have fun on the other team!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know that the formatting of this chapter is very weird to say the least. Hopefully it wasn't confusing! All the logistics of the scene (where they are, when they are, how they are, etc.) is up to the reader, and I find that concept kinda cool. Also, this chapter is very short. I thought there was something to be said for having this chapter stand alone. However, I'll be posting the next chapter in roughly two minutes. Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

Dean was surprised. Pleasantly so, but surprised nonetheless. His budding friendship with Jo was actually going great, and he was glad to have a close friendship that was, now, completely platonic. The sexual tension that had once lingered between them was now reduced to laughs about their utter failure at a relationship. It may have been awkward for a few weeks, but it helps that what they lacked in passion, they made up for in commonalities.

The only downside to both of them being so comfortable in talking about what they had once been, is that they talk about their breakup.

And why they broke up.

And the certain feelings that influenced said break up.

And the certain people that influenced said feelings.

But Dean knew Jo was right. They could both clearly see that Crowley was becoming more touchy-feel by the day. And Dean could clearly see that he was becoming Jo's sassy gay friend.

Now, while Dean could be quite snarky when he wanted to, and often when he didn't, he wasn't sure if he was gay, and at times he would simply deny his possible sexual orientation all together. This, however, would result in a bitch face from Jo that could easily win some awards.

"Jo, it's just... it's nothing. Alright? I was wrong. There's nothing there." He said.

"Dean..." Bitch face quickly being replaced with pity.

"Shh!" Mrs. Wilson said as she continued on her impassioned digression on the cultural significance of the Harry Potter series in England.

"One second." Dean whispered as he loudly coughed to hide the noise of ripping out a page of notebook paper.

'If I fail this class I'm blaming you' Dean wrote, and discreetly passed to his desk mate.

'You'll thank me when your big gay crush is requited' Jo responded.

'It's not a 'big gay crush'.'

'Big bisexual crush?'

'Shut up.'

'You know we don't care, right?' Jo asked. Dean could see the sincerity in her face. Regardless, he panicked.

'Jo Harvelle, if you have told ANYONE you will be sorry.'

'Don't get your panties in a twist, I'll never tell a living soul if you don't want me to'.

At least Dean was right that she'd been trustworthy.

'So are you gonna do something about it, or just sit there whining?'

'Did I or did I not tell you to shut up?' Dean concluded and shoved the scrap of paper into his notebook.

That's all they wrote before the bell rang.

And as Mrs. Wilson handed Dean the essay that Cas had helped with, he was shocked to find a large 'A' written in intimidatingly red ink. And yet, he wasn't intimidated in the slightest.

…

"So, do you think he's cute?" she asked as they walked into the cafeteria

"Jo!" Dean protested

"What?! I was just..." Jo stopped and stared as Cas arrived, hand-in-hand with Crowley. "Oh, no." She continued.

But Dean didn't hear her. He was too busy staring at Cas' evident discomfort being accented by Crowley's nonchalance. Jo patted him on the back in the form of a sympathetic 'I told you so' .

This time, when Crowley flirted, Dean had no escape. No way to try and make Cas jealous. All he could do was sit back and let himself feel the pain.

It seemed like he'd been doing a lot of that lately.

…

Dean was helping Sam with his homework and, as per usual, Sam wound up helping Dean, when he got a text.

'I'm sorry. You've both been a wonderful pain in my ass.'

The text was from the same number John had used last time. But this couldn't possibly be him. John Winchester doesn't apologize. Dean called the number and put it on speaker phone for Sam to hear.

"Hello?" came a gruff voice on the other line.

"Dad?" Dean asked, desperately.

The line went dead.

They were both silent.

"We've been doing work for a while. Huh, Sam? I think we could stand to go out."

"Sure, Dean." Sam replied, quietly.

Dean scanned his mind for potential places to go that, preferably, didn't cost him any actual money. He quickly settled on the perfect location.

Dean:

could Sam and i come over? 5:42 p.m.

Cas:

I thought you'd never ask. 5:44 p.m.

…

Dean parked the Impala near the curb and knocked on the red wooden door. The house was small, only one story, but it was enormous compared to their cold little room.

"Hey there!" He happily said as he opened the door.

"Hi," Dean said.

"Hey," Sam practically whispered.

"Well what's up with you then, little man?"

"Don't call me that." Sam angrily replied.

"Yeah, I'm probably gonna keep calling you that. Come on in! Castiel's been expecting you!" Gabriel said.

They walked along the tile flooring into a small, yet warm, living room where Cas was sat intently with his nose in a book.

"No way." Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I love Looking for Alaska!" Sam chirped happily.

Cas looked up.

"I do, too. I've decided to reread it." Dean could've sworn he saw a little glint in his eyes.

"I don't think they call it 'rereading' after the 20th time." Gabriel said, mockingly.

"Please, Gabriel, do let me know when you find a more suitable word, and I'll be sure to use it. Until that point, however, leave me alone. I'm rereading." Castiel said.

"Hey, Cas!" Dean said, and was confused as to why Cas blushed.

"'Cas'?" Gabriel asked.

"It's a nickname." Cas defended.

"You're on nickname status? They grow up so fast," he said proudly. "By the way, I am stealing that." Gabriel said to Dean.

"Sure, but you'll have to pay the copyright fees."

"I do like this one." Gabriel smiled.

…

Sam scanned the shelf next to the TV. He let out a little yelp.

"Oh, be careful. He turned into a baby bird again." Dean said.

"You have the best taste in television in the world," Sam said, unbothered by Dean's insult

Cas smiled, and Dean's heart skipped a little beat.

"30 Rock is my favorite show ever." Sam added.

"Did you watch the finale?" Cas asked, intrigued.

"It was beautiful." Sam said, pretending to cry into his hands. Luckily the crappy cable service at the motel had held out for the event.

They all watched the show for a little while. And Dean had to admit, it was kinda awesome. But he wasn't exactly sure whether it was the show he enjoyed, or the comfort of having all of them together. He kinda thought it was the latter.

Sam eventually went to help Gabriel cook dinner. While macaroni and cheese isn't the most complicated meal to make, Dean figured the kid could use all the big brothers he could get.

Dean and Cas sat in a companionable silence as they both completed their respective homework. Dean liked that. How he always wound up doing his work when Cas was around. The silence was lost when Cas searched through Dean's English notebook.

"I try not to subscribe to the concept of gossip, but it would appear that it is inevitable in a high school context." Cas said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I found something in your notebook. I wasn't looking for it, or anything even remotely akin to it, I assure you, but... I read it, Dean. I'm sorry." Cas said sincerely and handed Dean the note.

It was the one he'd been writing with Jo.

Of course it was.

Dean fell silent.

"Jo was right, though." Cas said, and took the lingering silence as a confirmation that he should keep talking "I wouldn't say I'm apathetic, but your sexual orientation, whether gay, straight, bisexual, or whatever else, doesn't change how much I care about you."

"You too." Dean finally said, glad that Cas wasn't asking about the crush.

And then their ever-intense eye contact became too chick-flicky for his liking.

"Are you screwing Crowley?" Dean blurted. Well, he could have handled that subject with more sensitivity.

"We are not yet at that point in our relationship." Cas said, as if he'd been preparing his answer.

"Are you dating?"

Cas thought for a bit "I suppose so. Yes."

Dean felt his stomach turn.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"'Why?'" Cas repeated.

It had been a stupid question.

"Have you kissed him yet?"

"Yes." Cas seemed disappointed. "Tongues feel weird, Dean."

"Was he your first kiss?" He tried not to sound angry.

"On the mouth, yes."

"What other kind of kiss is there?" Dean asked.

"Anywhere else."

"And have you had your first kiss 'anywhere else'?"

"Yes."

"With who?"

"You."

Dean remembered the day on the highway. Cas had talked to Dean, he'd listened. Really listened like no one else had. Like he had something important to say. And Dean kissed him because it was something important he'd had to do.

"And when did you have your first kiss, Dean?"

This time, Dean couldn't remember. It wasn't that he'd been at all intoxicated or out-of-it at the time. It just got shoved down under more important information. He could remember earlier ones, but they all just meshed together eventually, equal in meaninglessness.

"Well, have you had your first kiss 'anywhere else'?"

"No." Dean felt inexplicably sad.

Then Dean watched Cas lean over and let the bed's weight shift below them. He felt wet lips on his forehead, and smiled.

"Now you have."


	8. Chapter 8

It was that night that Dean got the call.

"Hello?" Dean asked into his cell phone.

"Is this Dean Winchester?" replied a southern accented man.

"Who's asking?" Dean replied.

"My name's Bobby Singer. I'm callin' about John Winchester."

"Why?" Dean asked, no inflection in his voice.

"Son, I work for the Lawrence County Precinct. I've been assigned to your dad's case."

"What 'case'?"

Sam looked up from his bowl of cereal to stare at Dean, questionably.

"I'm afraid there's been an accident." Bobby said, sympathy sneaking into his tone.

"Put it on speaker." Sam mumbled, but Dean simply shook his head and continued listening.

"What happened this time?" Dean asked, expecting yet another DUI, or something similarly benign.

"I'm sorry to tell ya', this is something new, even for him. I've been readin' up. He's had a buncha' 'experiences'." Bobby said "He's alive. For now." He said, ominously. "He drowned. Ran into a pond screamin' bloody murder about how 'the fire's burnin' everything he's got, and it ain't gonna take him while he's kickin' and screamin'. I guess the 'stop, drop, and roll' routine was too common for your old man."

Dean froze. Panic and guilt were now settling deep in his stomach. "Is he okay?" He finally asked.

"Last I heard, yeah. But he might not be for much longer. He's at the KU medical school ICU. Room 415. You were his emergency contact."

Dean would've thought he'd have listed one of his drinking buddies, never in a million years did he think it would be him.

"How much time's he got?"

"I dunno, boy."

Sam watched as Dean became more and more stoic and detached.

"And, son? You may not be a minor anymore, but don't go thinkin' for a second that you're an adult. I grew up a bit like ya'. I know what it can do to a good kid. And if you ever need somethin', even if it's dumb, you can... you can call this number."

"Thank you, Mr. Singer." Dean meant it.

"Bobby," he corrected. "Call me Bobby."

"Thanks, Bobby."

They both hung up.

How they would manage to pay those hospital bills was a thought for another time.

Dean told Sam the bare minimum of what was necessary, and was glad when Sam knew not to prod further. He'd find out for himself soon enough. They drove to the hospital in a numbed silence, and navigated through the complicated corridors of the hospital in a similar way.

Dean had expected a piss-drunk John all wrapped up in Casts and bandages bitching about how uncomfortable his stretcher was. But what he got was much quieter, and much more comatose. John was hooked up to at least four separate machines. Each of them displayed the results of various tests, and checked the wellbeing of his vital signs. And even with all of the needles and tubes pumping things in and out, this was the most peaceful John had looked in years.

"Dad?" Dean choked out.

Sam remained silent.

They pulled out two folding chairs and sat down, looking at what their father now was.

About fifteen minutes passed before a woman in blue scrubs and a lab coat showed up at the door.

"Dr. Mills," she said, offering her hand.

"Dean." He shook it, even though he thought it was an awfully unsanitary practice for a doctor.

"I'm Sam." He passively waved.

"So you're Mr. Winchester's boys, then?" She asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Dean replied, at a loss of what else to say.

"Well, your daddy's alive, but he's sustained major brain damage. He was underwater for at least two minutes, and he suffered from pretty serious oxygen deprivation. If he gets out of this, he's going to need some serious physical therapy." Well, at least she wasn't sugar coating it.

"What are his chances?" Dean asked, clinically.

"That depends on what you mean by 'chances'," she replied, "He's still got water in his lungs. Trying to get it out would be too invasive. It's just too risky. It's making it near-impossible for him to get in a good breath. He's drowning on dry land."

Dean listened to his father's wet breathing for a moment.

"How about him waking up, and walking away from this?" Dean asked, allowing his emotions to sneak into the words

"Slim to none." She said, genuinely remorseful. "I'd reckon he's got a few weeks on the machines, or a few hours off of them," she continued. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you, Dr. Mills." Sam eventually spoke up.

"No problem." She flashed a sympathetic smile. "If you need anything, just go to the nurses' desk and they can get a hold of me."

Doctor Mills sprayed some sanitizer on her hands and walked away.

…

They got back to the motel at about three in the morning. He would've stayed longer, but Dean wasn't about to let Sam miss school. Not that Dean could, but he hoped that Sam could at least get a bit of sleep that night. And in the dark, his only comfort was the sound of snoring he heard coming from Sam's adjacent bed.

Dean flipped his phone open and hid it under the covers to prevent waking Sam with its brightness. He stared at it for a while, letting his eyes adjust to the light.

Dean:

Help me. 3:04 a.m.

Cas:

What's wrong? 3:04 a.m.

Dean:

Can we talk in person? 3:05 a.m.

Cas:

It's three in the morning. 3:05 a.m.

Dean:

Were you sleeping? 3:05 a.m.

Cas:

Is that relevant? 3:06 a.m.

They stopped for a bit.

Dean:

Please, Cas. Buddy, I need you. 3:08 a.m.

Dean could feel the mood change.

Cas:

Let me tell Gabriel. Where should we meet? 3:08 a.m.

Reluctantly, Dean gave him the address to his and Sam's room.

Cas:

You do realize you just gave me the address to a skeevy motel. Should I expect a lady-of-the-night upon my arrival? 3:11 a.m.

Dean:

No. Just me. 3:11 a.m.

Cas:

I'll be there in ten minutes. 3:12 a.m.

Dean knew that was impossible. He'd been to Cas' house several times now, and it took at least fifteen minutes to get from one place to the other, but he'd be damned if he didn't see a Prius in the parking lot in just over nine.

He wrote a note for Sam in case he woke up, grabbed his key, and quietly opened and shut the door behind him.

Cas shut the car's door and looked at him, silently prompting him with a million questions.

"I live here," he blurted.

"I'd assumed."

"I don't have the money for anything else." Dean justified.

"It's temporary."

"We've been here since July."

"If you don't want something to be permanent, then it's not."

Dean wasn't sure when he'd started crying. He slumped down on the dirty sidewalk, covered with a dusting of February snow.

"Get up." Cas gestured to the car.

"No way in hell I'm getting in that thing." he punctuated with a sniffle.

"Dean Winchester, it is 3:15 AM, and I have been quite chivalrous in the time preceding this moment, but right now I'm going to have to ask you to get off your ass, and get in the goddamn Prius."

Dean proceeded to lie down on the pavement of the parking lot in an act of defiance. Cas soon turned off the car with a loud beep, and reluctantly joined him.

"My dad's a drunk." Dean explained.

"I'd figured."

"He's in the hospital."

"Is he alive?" Cas asked.

"Barely."

"Where's your mother?" It was now rapid-fire truth round.

"She died when Sam was six months old. It was a house fire."

"And how old were you?"

Dean had to think for a bit. He'd only really considered how the situation effected Sam.

"Four." Dean finally responded.

"I was five." Cas said.

"You were five, when what?"

"I was five when my dad died. I barely remember it. Nothing immediate. It was cancer. He had little-to-no chance of surviving, and sure enough, he didn't. Based on what I've heard of him, he was never the type for standing out. He was always in the majority of the statistic. Right up until the end. My mother, however, I remember more clearly. She left afterwards. I haven't seen her since."

Dean patiently waited for him to continue.

"Gabriel, my sister, Anna, and I were all taken in by my uncle, Zachariah. He was horrible. I suppose I should be grateful for having a place to sleep and food to eat, but I was living in constant fear. We all were. Anna packed up her things and left the day after her eighteenth birthday. Neither Gabriel nor I were surprised, but Zachariah was furious. He rarely allowed us out of the house, if ever. He was tyrannical when we needed love. Gabriel and I grew closer after that. We had to." Cas teared up, and so did Dean. "when I was fifteen, I began to think I may, in fact, be gay. I was alright with it, and so was Gabriel. He urged me not to tell Zachariah. I suppose, in the long run, he was right. But I couldn't stand one more thing to be afraid of. I tried to tell him. I'd thought everything was alright, but then he hit me." Cas paused, trying to catch his breath "It wasn't too hard, didn't hurt much, but it was enough. I fell to the floor and just sat there. I didn't move for a few minutes. You could call it shock, pain, numbness, whatever you'd like. Gabriel had been watching from the staircase. He grabbed me and dragged me up the stairs. He packed a bag for himself and me, and we tried to quietly escape downstairs. However, I was still in some kind of trans-like state, and it's difficult to be discreet when one person is so out of it that they has no clue they shouldn't be talking about the barbs on cat penises. So, Zachariah saw us. He didn't try to hit me again, didn't try to convince us to stay. He told me I have her eyes. It was the last thing he ever said to me. He said I have my mother's eyes. I think he did it to torment me. I don't want them. Her eyes, I mean. I don't want something of mine to be tainted by her. I want them to be entirely my own, I want everything I have to be mine, and I want this to be my own life. I'm sick of thinking everything I've accomplished wasn't actually my doing. I want to take credit for what I've done right, and apologize for what I've done wrong, and only what I've done wrong. I'm done saying I'm sorry for everything when not everything is my fault."

Dean looked into his eyes, and saw nothing but Castiel.

"You don't have your mother's eyes." Dean said.

"How do you know?"

"No one else could. I look into them and see the very essence of you. Someone else's could be the same color, but no one's could be yours."

"Thank you."

"Gabe's a good brother." Dean flopped his head back on the ground in a way that was almost painful.

"Yes, I suppose he is."

Dean began to swing his arms and legs in the shallow snow aimlessly. Cas joined him. They lingered for a while, but Dean got up first, and marveled at his newly made snow angel.

"Mine looks a little weird." Dean commented.

"If it wasn't weird, it wouldn't be you."

Although the statement was somewhat insulting, it felt equally as flattering.

"And what about yours, then?" He asked, writing 'Dean' into the snow below his constructed shape.

"It looks a bit deformed too." Cas responded, and wrote his nickname below the indent.

"Not deformed, just... fallen."

"That's me, Dean, your fallen angel."


	9. Chapter 9

They went inside after that, all numb appendages and aching sides. Dean was laughing so hard that he forgot about Sam sleeping on the other side of the door. Luckily, his growing body needed so much sleep that he didn't even flinch. Dean put his finger to his lip to suggest their silence and Cas let out a giggle of recognition and mimicked Dean's previous action, placing his index finger to his face.

"Dean, I have to go home." Cas whispered into the darkness of the small room.

"Stay. Please." Dean begged, tugging on his arm.

The wind rustled, and the snow began to pick up its pace.

"Gabriel will worry."

"It's just the sugar, all those rushes have to make a guy nervous. People are always nervous."

"It's his vice, I prefer not to badger him about it."

"What's your vice, then?" Dean asked.

Cas was silent for a while, thinking. "Crowley, I suppose."

The snow turned to ice.

"But... but I thought you hadn't 'done anything'?"

"We're getting a bit more adventurous." Cas clarified.

"Both of you?"

"I don't object."

"Well, do you enjoy it?"

There was a movement from Sam's bed and a groggily annoyed, "I'm right here, guys."

Dean and Cas shared a barely visible look. Apparently, at some point in the exchange, it had been mutually decided that Cas was, in fact, staying at the motel. This, however, posed a problem. There were only two beds.

"I guess we'll have to share." Dean said, and he could have sworn he saw a flash of white teeth through the darkness in the form of a smile.

Dean lent him a pare of sweat pants, and if he scooted a bit closer to Cas than necessary during the night, it was definitely just because of the cold.

They were awoken at 5:30 in the morning by the TV, and Sam's even louder amusement.

"Snow day!" He yelled, apparently unaffected by Dean and Cas' near-cuddling.

Dean loved how the kid could be so optimistic sometimes, which made him even sadder when he told Sam they'd need to visit John at the hospital later in the day.

"I know," Sam responded. "But, could we go out in the snow, first?"

"Aw, wittle Sammy wants to pway!" Dean answered.

"Shut up." Sam said as he blushed.

"Ditto." Dean countered.

"Good morning." A tired Cas cut-in.

"Mornin'." Dean and Sam responded in unison.

"Thank you very much for allowing me to stay the night." Cas said, slipping on his shoes "I'll show myself out."

"Hey, you don't have to go!" Dean said, a bit too quickly.

"Pardon?" Cas said.

"It's only 5:30! Gabe doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to get up before, well, lunch, and I could use some help taking care of this gigantic toddler."

"Oh, I don't think I'd be much help."

"Don't be silly!"

"I'd never played in the snow before last night. The closest I ever came was jumping into a puddle." Cas said, shamelessly justifying himself.

"There's a first time for everything." Dean said with a smile. "Besides, if you go home now you'll look like a classic Walker-of-Shame."

"'Walker-of-Shame'?" Sam criticized.

"Hey! Shakespeare invented words too, you... forple."

"What the Hell are you talking about?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

They decided to go to Shurley Park. It was a few miles out, but well worth any skidding the roads offered. Upon arriving, Dean was shocked by what seemed like acres of untainted white. It was beautiful. He felt a bit uncomfortable with the prospect of hurting it. Like it wasn't his, or anyone's, right to do so.

He tentatively walked to the beginning of an abandoned baseball field and ran his hand through the top of the snow. It felt cold, but pleasantly so. He felt alive. He felt happy. He felt something freezing hit the back of his head.

"Hey!" Dean yelled at the air surrounding him. And then another chilly clump tapped his hip. This time, he turned around to see a giggling Sam, and an equally as satisfied Cas.

"Oh, this is so not over." Dean said, menacingly.

They all ran to their respective corners, preparing their forts, and crunching snow until it was ready to be launched. Who says they aren't allowed to have a little fun in times of crisis?

And then it started. An array of white flying through the air, hitting its target or not hitting its target, it didn't matter. And Dean realized, what this was wasn't destroying the snow, it was adding to it. He couldn't help but smile.

…

"Dean, could I go to a friend's house?" Sam asked, coming down from his innocent euphoria.

"Who's this 'friend'?" Dean asked.

"Jess." Sam said.

"'Jess'?" Dean cockily raised an eyebrow.

"She's nice," Sam blushed.

"She sounds nice." Dean said, a bit over excitedly. Hey, this was his little brother's first girl 'friend'. He was allowed to be happy.

Cas smiled, listening in.

Sam stood up, admiring the wonderful mess they'd made.

"Well, I think that's enough hypothermia for me." Sam concluded.

"A bit eager to see your girlfriend, huh, Sammy?"

Sam bit his lip and laughed.

…

After dropping Sam off at Jess' house with only a few cat calls and words of encouragement, he panicked.

It was 10:00. Dean was out of excuses now. The hospital was open to all visitors. He had to go see John.

"Alright, Cas, let me drive you home." Dean said.

"Why?" Cas said, disappointedly.

"I've gotta go visit my dad."

"By yourself?"

"Why not?"

"Wouldn't that be difficult for you?"

No one had asked him that before.

"It's okay. It's not a big deal. Really, it's not."

"I apologize if this is overstepping any boundaries, but I could come. If you'd like any emotional support."

Weakness be damned, he may just have to take Cas up on that offer.

…

"Hi, Dean." A kind nurse from the previous night's shift greeted

"Hey, Tessa." Dean replied, and Cas followed close behind

"He's looking a bit better today." She called on his way to his father's room.

He knew she'd say that unless he was openly dying right in front of their eyes. But then again, he kind of was.

They both walked down the hallway and Dean directed Cas into the correct room. Dean stared at the floor, observing Cas out of the corner of his eye as Cas looked at John as if he was completing the pieces of a puzzle.

"John Winchester," Cas began. "I'd like to thank you, sir, for aiding in the creation of one great boy, and one great man. I'll leave which one is which up to interpretation."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing, but he liked it.

"You have done some... unsavory things throughout your lifetime, and to your sons that I do not even presume to comprehend. However, if, even through all that, Sam and Dean still managed to turn out so well, then I would say you have something to be very proud of." Cas continued to the lifeless figure, and Dean began to tear up.

"I refuse to believe you're all bad, sir. If Dean's same potential lurks within you, then I'd say you're nothing but misguided." And no one could ever convince him he didn't just see his dad crack a smile.

Dean grabbed Cas into a forceful, yet loving, hug that was gladly returned.

"Thank you." Dean said, rubbing at his eyes.

Cas rubbed his hand over Dean's back in a way that felt soothing, natural, and Dean just let the tears fall.

They left about fifteen minutes later. But Dean knew Cas would've stayed as long as Dean took.

As they were leaving they were cornered, once again, by Tessa.

"Headin' out?" She asked.

"Looks like it." Dean replied.

"Woah, woah, woah, hold it right there." Dean panicked, quickly trying to remember what he'd done wrong, but he came up with nothing. "I never introduced myself to your friend!" She explained.

Oh, yeah. That would make more sense. What didn't make sense, however, was why Cas looked downright terrified.

"Hi there! I'm Tessa. I'm an inpatient nurse on this floor." She said. "What's your name?"

"Castiel." Cas mumbled.

"Sorry, what?" Tessa asked.

"Castiel." he repeated in the same tone.

"One more time?" She seemed desperate now.

"Castiel. His name is Castiel." Dean finally cut in, not being able to bear it anymore.

"That's an interesting name."

"It's biblical."

"Oh, cool!" Dean was thankful that she actually thought it was. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Castiel. Have a nice day." She finished as they left the room.

...

"Cas, what was that about?" Dean said as they walked down the bright hallway.

"What?"

"'What?'" Dean mimicked Cas' ignorance. "With Tessa! Man, I couldn't hear a word you were saying, and neither could she."

"I apologize. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"Don't apologize, dude, it's okay. But, has stuff like that always been an issue for you?"

"I'm introverted. It doesn't mean that I have a problem." Cas explained, frustratedly.

"It's not a problem. I just want to make sure it won't become one. Tessa's sweet. You just gotta make sure you can still get to know people. Good people."

"I do know good people."

"Is there any harm in knowing more?" Dean asked, sincerely.

"I'd rather get to know people I like, better. Quality is better than quantity, Dean."

"You aren't always that shy when you're meeting people."

"And you're the authority on that?" Cas said, sarcastically.

"You weren't that shy around Sam."

"He expressed an interest in my book."

"You weren't that shy around our friends."

"I trusted your judgement."

Come to think of it, Dean had never seen Cas talk to anyone else outside of their immediate group of friends, and Crowley, but he always did look a bit uncomfortable with him.

"You weren't shy around me, and you'd never met me before."

"You'd just face-planted into the ground and were carelessly screaming show tunes. What was I supposed to do?"

"Singing."

"What?"

"Singing. Not screaming."

"I have an idea." Cas ignored Dean's previous protests.

"And what would that be?"

"Pull over." Cas commanded.

"Why?"

"Just pull over."

Dean did. Cas hopped out of the car, and onto the nearest patch of clean snow and laid himself down.

"Cas, what are you doing?"

"I'm making something pretty." He began to move his arms and legs back and forth, like they had last night.

"An angel?"

"Hmm." Cas hummed in agreement.

Dean quickly joined him on the ground, slowly moving his limbs around.

"Why are we doing this?"

"Because it doesn't matter if we do or if we don't." The answer made a sad amount of sense. Dean got up, carefully, being sure not to injure his creation. Cas did the same. "Get your phone and take a picture of them." Cas told him. Again, Dean did as Cas asked. "We're going to go around this town and put our angels everywhere."

"That could take all day."

"I hope it does."

"What about Gabriel?" Dean asked.

"I texted him a few hours ago, he sent back a text featuring several innuendo-filled statements. He really likes you." Cas replied.

Dean smirked, knowing that Cas had been preparing for this made a warm feeling settle in his stomach that quickly combatted the cold felt in the rest of his body.

They continued around town for the remainder of the day, dragging snow along with them as they went. Dean took pictures of all of their angels. Each one different from the last. Each one even more fun to make than the one before it. Dean wasn't sure what he'd do with the pictures, but he was glad to have any means to help preserve this perfect memory.


	10. Chapter 10

It was the little things, Dean thought. The way he focussed as he read, the way his lips gave a quick twitch rather than a full smile. The things that not everyone noticed were always the most beautiful. And that described Cas perfectly. He'd somehow sneak by, unnoticed, leaving everyone with no idea what they were missing. The snow lingered on the sidewalks, and despite many shovels' best attempts, it showed no intention of leaving.

They'd spent much more time at Cas' house recently. They both understood that the motel room wasn't exactly ideal, and they preferred to treat it accordingly. It was temporary, Dean had accepted. Best to start distancing himself from it. Sam would come sometimes. Dean was thrilled that they all got along so well, and he could tell Cas was too. But other times Sam would go to someone else's house. Usually Jess'. He didn't like to stay at the motel alone, and Dean didn't like to leave him there. It was good. Dean was happy that they both had somebody.

Cas was also going with Dean to the hospital more often. It was a bit unorthodox, but seeing as Sam wanted to talk to John without Dean's supervision, he'd found it beneficial to have a conscious person there, as moral support more than anything else.

'John was stable'. That was all the medical staff would say. They were too unsure to give false hope, and too confident to make him say goodbye. Dean appreciated their genuine uncertainty, but he couldn't help but get frustrated. It was nice to have Cas there to ground him.

"He seems to be doing a bit better today." Doctor Mills said, gesturing more to John's bed than John himself.

"Oh, Dr. Mills, we were wondering..." Dean said, trailing off. "Cas, what was that thing you were asking about?"

"We were simply wondering if there was any risk of increased trauma due to the amount of time he's been unconscious." Cas clarified.

"Right." Said Dean.

They proceeded to use parts of the English language that Dean hadn't even attempted to breach. Medical lingo was being churned out left and right, and he could tell that Dr. Mills was almost as impressed as he was.

"Thank you, Dr. Mills," Said Cas, after having received a viable answer.

"Please, call me Jody."

"Thank you, Jody." Dean added.

She walked right past the soap and left.

"Dean?" Cas said, after the door was gently shut.

"Yeah?"

"I just want to make sure you are prepared for the possibility that your father doesn't wake up." Cas prompted.

"Cas, this man has been coming in and out of life or death situations nearly as long as I can remember. The only thing different about this time is that I'm forced to watch it happen."

"Just because you know it's inevitable doesn't mean you'll be prepared for when it actually happens."

"Cas, I-" and he would have continued, if not for the sudden coincidental rapidity of the beeping on John's heart monitor.

It was a blur from there. It went much too quickly for Dean to recollect anything but a panicked call to Sam, and desperate consoling from Cas.

Dean didn't know the logistics of what happened, it didn't much matter to him anyways. All he knew was the man's heart stopped beating and Sam got there in time.

Jody said she was sorry on her way out.

Dean told her 'thank you'. Or, at least, that's what Cas told him that he did.

Dean and Sam stayed with Cas and Gabriel for a few days.

The funeral was short. No one spoke. No one wanted to. Bobby came out of solidarity to Dean and Sam. Cas and Gabe came too, for similar reasons. The priest left quickly afterwards, registering the joint discomfort throughout the room. This would usually be the time for small talk between family members who only saw each other upon a mutual loss, but seeing as they were the only ones there, Sam and Dean found themselves discussing the possibility of cremation with the funeral home.

"I think it's a fitting way for him to go," Sam continued. "He'll be with mom. That's what he would want."

"I don't think mom would've wanted to see him like this."

That's how you know the difference between someone who's just died, and someone who's been gone a while. If everyone's mourned, gone through all of their respective stages of grief, and eventually moved on to bigger and brighter things, then the person goes from a 'would', to a 'would've'. It's a very cocky concept, Dean thought. To presume a person's desires. They were far too complex to understand while they were up and kicking. You couldn't possibly know all that they were if they tried to tell you themselves. How in all Hell could you even begin to understand what their very essence would want when you couldn't even get who they were before?

That was John's problem. Whenever he'd talk about her, however rarely, she was always a 'would'. And now, for John, Mary could be a 'will'.

"You can take these home." Said the balding, slightly sympathetic man at the funeral home's desk, pointing to the very legal-looking stack of papers. "We'll need an answer by tomorrow, but you could think about it overnight." Dean knew that when you witness too many families in mourning, it's hard to give a rat's ass about one in particular anymore.

On their way out of the building, Dean was cut off by a Southern accent.

"Kid, we've gotta talk a bit." Bobby said.

"Can't, Bobby, I gotta get Sam back to home."

"I thought I made it clear, guys, you're staying with us for a while." Gabriel cut in, it wasn't really his place, but Dean was nothing if not grateful.

"We can certainly drive him back." Cas added.

"Thank you, guys," Dean said, accepting the help.

"No problem, Dean-o." Gabriel said with an empathetic smile, and Dean knew he understood, he was a big brother too.

...

Dean walked into the messy office, books were stacked everywhere. Bobby could really use a bookCase or two. He handed Dean a little slip of paper, knowing immediately what it was.

"Bobby, there's no way I'm gonna be able to pay this." He said, gesturing to the medical bill.

"I think I could do somethin' about it."

"Oh no, I couldn't let you do something like that."

"It's no problem, kid. Call it a perk of havin' a doctor for a girlfriend." Bobby said.

"Really?" Dean asked, equally shocked and impressed.

Bobby hummed in agreement. "And I think I could push for the state to pay for the post-arrangements, too."

And Dean knew what he meant by 'post-arrangements'.

"I can never thank you enough for this."

"You can do one thing for me."

"What's that?"

"Don't be like your dad. I see potential in you, boy, and your brother. I won't just stand by and see it rot away."

"I'll try my best."

"'Your best' ain't good enough. You'll never get a chance to enjoy your life if you spend all your time being afraid of it."

Dean nodded his head, a bit comforted by being told what to do. "Which doctor?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Huh?" Bobby asked.

"You said you were dating a doctor." Dean clarified.

"Oh, Doctor Mills."

Dean choked on his breath.

"That's what I thought you'd do." They both chuckled dryly "Dean?" He asked, and Dean was fairly certain it was one of the first times Bobby had actually used his name.

"Yeah?"

"Your daddy left somethin' for ya'. It's some kind of a journal, a diary, maybe. It was the only thing there's legal ground saying that solely, he owned. He left it to you." Bobby unlocked a safe near his desk and pulled out the book, crammed with notes.

Dean took it home. Back to Gabe and Cas' house, he means. Bobby was nice enough to offer him a ride. He really would have to repay all of these favors some time. It wasn't his fault that people love taking care of those left over from death.

Cas and Dean shared a knowing look as he walked in the door. It had been decided that Cas' bedroom was now co-owned by Dean, and the couch was Sam's. Cas lead the way to his room with Dean following close behind. Dean quickly changed into sweat pants and sat on the side of the bed, as Cas stood in the doorway, watching. Eventually he sat down beside him. Dean put his head into his hands and began to cry. Cas wrapped an arm around him, and Dean huddled his way into his lap, contorting them into a hug.

"I'm alone, Cas. Me and Sam, we don't have anyone anymore." Dean said through rapid and involuntary breaths.

"You'll never be alone, Dean. Not really. Gabriel and I, we won't let you be. Maybe we can all make our fragments a bit more whole."

Dean continued to cry, and Cas let him. He gently rocked Dean back and forth, and hummed a single note over and over. Dean took solace in the subtle predictability, and he adjusted to rest his head on Cas' shoulder.

Cas waited a while until he heard Dean's breath turn rhythmic and quiet, then he adjusted himself so that he could tuck Dean in, under the covers.

"Thank you, Cas."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Just stay. Please."

Cas scooted Dean over, and joined him lying down. Cas unsurely placed his arm over Dean's waist and hugged him close. Dean gripped his hand and held it in his own, resting chest-to-back. His other hand carded through Dean's hair, tracing his own pattern there, until he was sure Dean was asleep. Cas leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek gently. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean." He whispered. He carefully laced their fingers together.

Cas woke up the following morning a crick in his neck and Dean with his nose in a disheveled book. His cheeks wet with tears.

"Dean?" He asked, tentatively.

"Oh, Cas, hey." Dean quickly rubbed his eyes. "Good morning."

"What are you reading?"

"It's my dad's journal. He left it to me in his will. Gotta tell you, Cas, my dad was an interesting guy. Never told me about any of this shit."

"You can't let that get to you, Dean."

"Well what the fuck else am I supposed to think, Cas?" He yelled. "Sorry. I'm sorry. It's just that... your parents, they're supposed to be the one's that are always there for you, right? They're the ones that always love you, can always make you feel better. Then why, Cas, why are we the ones who get stuck with the ones that don't? Why are we the ones who get stuck with the ones that make us feel like shit? How is that fair? How is any of this goddamn fair?!"

"We didn't get stuck with bad parents, just bad situations."

"That's even worse! That means we could have had great families, great lives, if not for something. If a hair straightener hadn't been left on, or if a tumor hadn't been cancerous. All these times, there were always things that could have been 'if not for' something else. I just want something that is. Something that isn't dependent on me. Something that I can hang on to. Something that doesn't make me feel terrified. Always. Why don't we get that, Cas?"

Tears were streaming down Cas' face now, too. He'd never heard all of this verbalized. All of his thoughts so perfectly expressed. He lunged at Dean, holding onto him for dear life, and Dean held on just as tight.

They fell over on the bed, arms still wrapped around each other, and fell back asleep.

The next time that Dean woke up, he saw a bowl of cereal on the nightstand and a note.

Had to go to school, I'm not far away. Sam told us about your cereal preferences, and we now have enough Corn Pops to last a lifetime. Gabriel's at work, and Sam should be downstairs. See you soon.

Yours,

Cas

Dean wanted to see Sam, desperately, but he needed to have himself together. He took his father's journal out and started up again.

His eyes hurt from interpreting the crowded letters, but, a few hours later, he reached the book's end.

I'm sorry. I was scared. Mary was always the better parent. The better half. I was so scared of letting you down that I just stopped trying all together. I gave up, just 'cause it was easier than trying. Don't live that way, boys. No one ever ends up happy.

I'm so proud of you two.

Even if I don't deserve to be.

With that, he knew he was ready to talk to Sam.

"Hey, Sammy."

He didn't object to the nickname this time.

"How are you?" Sam asked, eyes red.

"Had better days." Dean responded. "And you?"

"About the same."

"I hate to bring this up, but I've gotta give them these papers by this afternoon about what to do with the body."

"I think he's ready." Sam said, as they talked over their options.

Dean refused to let a single tear fall in front of Sam. He signed the crematory papers and dropped them off. Afterward, Dean parked the Impala on the sidewalk. He didn't want to drive it again for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review and leave kudos! Thank you for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

Sam and Dean both took the next week off from school. Gabe and Cas understood, and they both did their best to help. Gabe made plenty of jokes and Cas took notes for Dean in all of their classes. They all watched TV and ate together. Even in the worst of times, it was a little bit like having a family.

Dean made sure Sam was doing okay. And he could see it, a slow but steady progression upward every day. Sam was getting stronger, more stable. Dean only wished the same could be said about himself.

He dragged himself around, trying his best not to be swallowed up whole by what felt like an insatiable and infinitely dark void inside him. He put on a smile for everyone else to see, he didn't want to burden them any further.

There were times, though, where Dean felt okay. When he was talking with Sam, when they all sat themselves down on the couch, and then there were the nights. For over a decade, his nights had been cold and lonely. Now, they were becoming warmer and warmer as each one passed. Although they didn't need to share Cas' bed, they both wanted to. Every night Cas would hold onto Dean, and Dean would hold back, just as tightly. He'd wake up in the middle of the night, tears soaking the sheets of his pillow, and Cas would be there, always, with a tissue.

"I didn't want him to come back. If I could just see him one more time, I could fix everything, I could make everything alright." Dean choked.

"Neither of us believe that, Dean. You don't want to see him again. Not really. Death glorifies life. That's all this is." Cas sensibly replied, and he hummed Dean back to sleep.

School was difficult. For a while, at least. He talked to his friends, but he never said what was really on his mind in front of anyone but Cas. It wasn't that he didn't like the rest of them, because he did, but Cas was different. Dean's grades slipped a bit, everyone understood, but Cas patiently helped him with his work before they went to bed.

"Thank you." Dean would mumble as he drifted in and out of sleep.

"Thank you." Cas would reiterate, regardless of whether or not Dean could still hear him.

It was slow. They all knew it, but Dean felt better. Better than he'd been in years, and that was the important thing. It took a few weeks at first, then a month. He wasn't perfect, but he was closer to it than he'd been in a long time. He was damaged and scattered, but now he could begin to fit the pieces back together.

Cas held on tighter each night. He wasn't pulling Dean down, he was simply keeping him grounded.

And finally, Dean started sleeping again. But that didn't mean Cas did.

A furious gust of wind from the outside snowstorm woke Dean up. He was just about to go back to sleep when he saw a figure's shoulders bobbing up and down on the side of the bed. It took him only a moment in his sleep-induced trance to realize who it was.

"Cas?" Dean asked, groggily.

"Dean!" Cas replied, startled, rubbing his eyes. "Why are you awake?" He tried to pull himself together.

"Cas, are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Go back to bed." He said, quickly throwing out his tissues.

"This isn't fine, Cas." He was getting scared. "What happened?"

"Dean, please just go to sleep." He sounded so desperate.

"Cas, let me-"

"I said go to sleep!" Cas yelled, his hand shivered furiously. "No, no, I- Dean, I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I don't yell. I don't like yelling."

Dean put his hand on Cas'.

Cas laid down on the bed next to Dean, and handed his phone to Dean.

Dean squinted, his eyes not yet adjusted to the brightness, and read the text.

Crowley:

Bloody prude, fuck you 3:13 a.m.

"What's going on?" Dean prompted.

"Crowley has gotten more... insistent, lately. I've been trying to tell him 'no', but he doesn't seem to listen. I'm not ready for that, not yet, at least. I don't want... that... if it's meaningless. And that's how it feels to me. Meaningless."

Dean felt himself waking up more by the moment.

"Cas, he hasn't forced you to do anything, has he?" Dean asked, panicking.

"No," Cas said. "Not yet, anyway."

"You have to end this, Cas, I won't let this happen to you."

Cas' face changed into an unrecognizable emotion and the tears returned.

"Maybe- maybe it's a good thing, I mean, maybe it's okay. Him and me. It doesn't feel right, but you know I'm starting to think maybe it's not supposed to. I've just romanticized affection to be something it's not. That's all. It's okay."

Dean could now see how red Cas' eyes were.

"Cas, that's not how it's supposed to be, that's not how it would feel with someone you love."

"You're saying you think I don't love him?"

"Do you?"

"No," Cas said in a near whisper, voice cracking. Dean had never seen him like this, so emotional, and it broke his heart. "I know I don't love him, I don't even like that bastard," Cas chuckled half-heartedly, trying to cover the tears. "It doesn't matter anyway." Cas continued. "I'm stuck here. I can't do anything about it. It's permanent."

"'If you don't want something to be permanent, then it's not'." Dean quoted. "Cas?"

"What?" He snapped.

"If you don't like him, why are you with him?"

"To get over you, you idiot!"

Dean's eyes widened more than he thought humanly possible.

"Oh, oh god. I feel nauseous." Cas said.

"Cas?"

"I didn't mean to say that, I- I didn't mean... I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, it's okay." Dean soothed, unsure of what to do. He wrapped his arm around Cas' shoulders, bringing them closer.

"I screwed it all up."

"No you didn't."

"Yes. Yes, I did. Now you're gonna get scared and leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere, Cas."

"You're not the first to tell me that."

Dean took Cas' hand with his free one.

"It's okay. It's fine, it's my fault." Cas said.

"What's your fault?"

"I shouldn't have told you that, I shouldn't- I should've just let us be."

"Do you not want this?" Dean rubbed his thumb over Cas'

"Of course I do."

"Then let's do this."

Cas looked up.

"Give me the phone," he said.

Dean took his hand away from Cas' and gave him the phone without a second thought.

After a very tired, and only slightly pissed off sounding Crowley hung up on the extended break up speech, Cas decided it was mutual. After it was over, Dean pulled Cas into a tight hug, Dean straddling Cas' thighs as their cheeks rubbed against each other.

"Dean?" He whispered.

"Yeah, Cas?"

"I lied," they were quiet. "During truth or dare, I mean. Crowley wasn't my first crush, or a crush at all, really. You were. From the first time I met you, I knew. You were different, you were better, you were worth it. I was scared, and you were with Jo, and I thought if I was with someone completely and utterly different from you, then I could get over you, but being with him only made me miss you more. It made me miss everything about you."

"Cas-" Dean said, his rapid heartbeat making it difficult to say anything more articulate.

"Thank you so much. I can't even begin to thank you enough. It's not possible."

"What are you talking about? You were better off before you met me."

"That's the most stupid thing you've ever said, Dean, and trust me, you've said a lot."

Dean was silent, his confusion evident, and his ego wavering.

"Do you know what I did before I met you? Nothing. I did... nothing. You were the first person I'd talked to at this school. I couldn't even manage to get a word out to anyone else. The day before I met you we tried to play a small 'name game' during English, and I simply walked out the door. I was frozen, Dean. But you helped me more than you could possibly imagine." Cas continued. "During science the next day, I coughed. After twenty minutes of contemplation, I allowed myself the privilege." Cas said, bitterly. "I was so scared, I didn't know how, but I knew I'd screw up. I always screw up. But you know what, Dean? I was wrong. I'd rather have you. I'd rather screw this up than never have anything to screw with. So, I want to make something to screw up with you, if you'd like."

Dean scooted up to Cas and kissed him on the lips. It was just a peck at first, but then he grabbed Cas' face and kissed him with a ferocity he didn't know he had the capacity for. Dean could feel Cas smile into the kiss, and Dean reciprocated. They broke away for a moment, looking into each other's eyes. Dean let out a breathy laugh.

"You too?" Cas said, hopeful.

"Yeah, I guess so." Dean answered, chuckling.

Dean pushed forward again. Placing his hand on Cas' neck for stability, he brought their lips together. It was only for a moment longer than last time, then Dean pulled away and moved back. Feeling his cheeks furiously blush, he turned away from Cas.

"Don't do that."

"What?" Dean asked, as Cas started pressing feather-light kisses to Dean's face. His cheeks, his forehead, anywhere but his lips.

"I don't want to stop kissing you." He said, reaching the tip of his nose. "I don't want this to end."

"Hey, Cas?"

"Yeah?"

"Please don't get over me."

They fell over on the bed and slept all through the night in a beautiful silence. Cas' head rested on Dean's chest, and Dean's hand carded its way through his hair in a soothing rhythm. Dean pressed kisses to his hair when he thought he was asleep, but Cas was still wide awake, and smiling to himself as he watched the snow come down outside their window.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean woke up more peacefully than he had in a long time. The room around them was still dark, the full moon offering just enough lighting for Dean to find a pair of piercing blue eyes fixated on him, clearly unaware that he wasn't still asleep.

He heard Cas mumble something to himself and flash a reserved smile.

Dean didn't hear what he'd said, but it wasn't important. If he was mumbling it, then it wasn't yet meant to be heard.

"Hey, Cas." Dean said, stretching out and propping himself up on an elbow.

Dean saw Cas visibly jump, and heard the springs of the cheap mattress squeal beneath them.

"Dean!" He said, probably a bit louder than he'd meant to.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked with a smirk, giving him a hard time.

"Nothing! I'm sorry, Dean, I just, I-"

"Woah, dude! Don't worry! I was just kidding."

"About what?" Cas asked, strangely panicked.

"About you watching me, it's... it's a little creepy, but it's cute."

"I was... cute?"

"You're adorable, Cas. You're like an abandoned kitten who just wants a home." He smiled, but not a smirk this time, an honest-to-god smile.

"You're beautiful, Dean."

He broke out in goosebumps. The statement sounded almost too genuine to bear.

"May I kiss you?" Cas asked, voice catching a bit at the end.

"Please do." Dean replied.

Cas lifted his head from the pillow and placed it inches away from Dean's. The position was a bit awkward, so he quickly adjusted his arm to rest on Cas' hip. Cas looked down at toward his waist, and Dean could've sworn he saw a twinkle in his eye. Cas stayed in his place, feeling the other boy's breath hover on his lips.

"Cas," Dean prompted, whispering. "What are you waiting for?"

"I could ask you the same quest-"

And, before Cas could finish, Dean swooped forward and captured his lips into a perfect kiss. Until now, there hadn't been anything that could have been considered "making out" in their small kisses, but Cas felt the slippery slide of Dean's tongue brushing against his lips, and he couldn't help but allow the intrusion with a small moan.

Dean froze for a moment when he heard it. The single most hot thing he'd ever heard, without a doubt. That's it, he had a new favorite sound. It wasn't a noise either, it could only be considered a sound. Soft, delicate, and stunningly understated. He decided needed to hear it again.

But not tonight. Tonight wasn't about that, not the physical relationship. They'd both had something like that before, and that wasn't what they needed right now.

Dean broke away from Cas' mouth with a small pop, leaving it gorgeously red and swollen. He felt a bit of pride knowing he'd done that.

He caught himself staring after that. He looked into Cas' eyes until they eventually shut again, and he watched him sleep until he found himself doing the same.

A little creepy, but it's cute.

...

Dean woke up again on that Saturday morning. Well, 12:30 isn't usually considered to be morning, with the wind pushing a branch up against their window pane.

His eyes blinked sleepily in an attempt to focus. When they finally did, they settled upon Cas' sleeping silhouette, accented by the dim light filtered by the blinds.

He was stunning. That's it. Plain and simple. The navy bed-spread gently curved along the contours Cas' body. His hair was tousled in a billion different directions, it was perfectly disorganized. Dean couldn't help but run his hand through it. He wasn't changing it, but he was delighted when the strands seemed to lean into his touch.

"You're beautiful too, Cas." Dean whispered into the quiet room, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "I... You're so beautiful."

Dean heard a groggy moan from Cas, and looked up to meet his eyes, half-lidded with sleep.

"Dean, did you just-"

He kissed Cas quickly to prevent any further questions.

…

So far, the quiet ones were Dean's favorite. The barely-there kisses shared in the winter twilight, the ones that woke each other up, the ones that made them happy to be awake. They were the ones that said 'you can get through anything, because you aren't alone', and that was a message Dean desperately needed.

It was a bit strange, how quickly they'd all began to feel like a... dare he say it... family. Dean, Cas, Sam, and Gabe, all together, all providing, all caring. Of course his feelings toward each individual were extremely different, Sam would always be a priority, but that didn't mean that there wasn't room enough in his heart for other people. He and Gabe argued a lot. It wasn't easy having two older brothers, both trying to be the boss. But Gabriel was smart. He might not seem like it at times, but he knows how to manipulate people, specifically Dean, to get what he wants, and luckily what he wants is what's best for all of them. They were all moved in now. All of their things from the motel were gone. Either sold or brought along. It's not as if they didn't have to pay. Dean worked at the local Walmart on the weekends and brought home some of what he earned to help with the bills. Dean had told Gabe about his fund for Sam. He made a half-hearted joke in response, but Dean could tell, he understood. They worked out some kind of deal about what goes to the family-funds, so to speak, what goes to the college fund, and what goes into Dean's pocket. The final result was small, but he didn't mind. He had all he needed.

Dean was glad that Gabe and Cas kept to themselves. He didn't really appreciate visitors, and he wondered how he'd even begin explaining away them living together. However, just because people don't visit, doesn't mean people don't call.

"Hello?" Dean said, talking into the landline. Seriously Dean thought why do people still have these things?

"Uh... hello?" A confused feminine voice replied.

"Jo?" Dean asked.

"Wait a minute... Dean?"

"Hi there!"

"Why are you answering the phone?" Jo asked.

"What are you talking about? This is my-"

Oh.

Oh crap.

"Cas is in the bathroom and we were hanging out." Dean cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Okay." Jo said, seemingly accepting the lie. "So I guess I can cross two off my list."

"Sorry, what?"

"I'm having a little get together next Friday, you in?"

"Should I expect this to be just as 'little'as last time when half the school decided to show up?"

"No." Jo said, exasperated. "Just a few of us, really, just our friends."

"You promise?"

"I promise." Jo answered, and that was enough for Dean, he knew she didn't say that lightly.

Dean placed the mouth-piece of the phone on his shoulder and yelled up the stairs.

"Cas?!" He called.

"You know you can actually walk up here to see me, rather than screaming."

"Oh, you know you like it. Jo, party, friday... you in?" Dean asked, minimizing the amount of necessary words.

"Are you going?"

"Only if you are."

"Then I look forward to seeing you there."

Dean raised the phone back to his ear "We're in."

"Great!" She chirped.

…

They decided to walk to Jo's house. It wasn't far, and chances are they'd be a bit drunk so they'd rather not drive. About half way into the mile-long trek, Dean felt Cas' hand bump up against his. He looked over at his face just in time to see the lovely rosy color spread itself along his cheeks. He looked down to see that his hand had been balled into a fist. He stopped moving.

"What's wrong?" Cas asked, stopping with him.

"Nothing."

"Why did you stop?"

"I just wanted to try something." Dean replied

"And what would that be?"

"Give me your hand."

"What?"

"Come on, just give me your hand." Dean said, smiling.

Cas gently placed his hand in front of him, loosening it. Dean put the hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

"I've never done this before, you know."

"Done what?" Cas prompted.

"Held hands."

"Are we holding hands?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, I guess I just always thought that people had to be walking to be holding hands."

"Let's start walking, then."

"Wait a minute."

"Why?"

"Now I want to try something."

Cas leaned forward before Dean had the chance to ask. It was hesitant, Cas reacher the corner of his mouth, but Dean quickly adjusted to get them in the right position. Cas pressed his lips to Dean's harder, peacefully shutting his eyes.

They broke away with a smooching sound that caused Dean to giggle a bit to himself.

"So that's what kissing you is like." Cas said, pressing his finger to his bottom lip, trying to reenact the sensation.

"Cas, we've kissed before." Dean said, still laughing.

"Sure, but you always kissed me. I wanted to know what it was like to kiss you."

"And what's the verdict?"

"It was inconclusive."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I'll have to do it again."

And so he did.

They got to Jo's house a half an hour late, but neither of them minded.

…

"There you are!" Jo exclaimed, upon seeing them walk down the basement stairs.

"Sorry we're late." Dean responded, even if it was a lie.

"You're just in time to play spin-the-bottle!" A remotely drunk Becky told them.

They both shrugged and took their seats next to one another, discreetly poking and pinching at each other whenever they got the chance.

"Dean!" Ruby called out, and he felt a wave of panic flush over him as he realized that the bottle had landed on him.

"Oh, uh, you know what, Ruby? I think I'll pass." Dean tried to come up with a valid excuse.

"Too bad, Dean-o, you know the rules."

"No, really. I'm sorry. It's nothing against you, I just..." The room fell silent, and Dean could swear he could hear Cas' heart beat coinciding with his own.

"'It's nothing against me'?" Ruby lamented. "Please tell me, Dean. How this could possibly not be meant to offend me."

"I promise! I like you just fine, Ruby. I would, but I..."

"But you what?!" She yelled.

Dean turned his head to Cas. He heard the heart beat get faster, then louder, then he felt a rougher-than-usual press of Cas' lips against his own, this time right on target. The kiss wasn't too long, just enough to dispel any possibility of either of them kissing anyone but each other at this get-together.

After their faces left each other, Dean couldn't help but swoop in for one last quick peck.

The room, once again, was silent. Dean wrapped his arm around Cas who then proceeded to nuzzle his head into the other boy's shoulder.

"Called it." They heard Chuck say from the corner.


	13. Chapter 13

"You can't just come back out of nowhere and-!" Dean was jolted awake by Gabriel's enraged voice echoing through the narrow hallway. "No, that's not what I- Would you let me finish?"

Cas gave a quick surprised yelp as he was jolted out of his sleep, cradled by Dean's arm around him. Cas turned around and gave him a confused look, which he returned with a shrug. Dean opened his mouth to say something, or ask something, he wasn't quite sure, but he was cut off by another outburst from Gabriel before he got the chance.

"Why?! Because we haven't heard from you in five years, that's why!"

Dean noted he sounded defensive, but undeniably, sickeningly, hurt. He looked to Cas who was covering his mouth with his hands, his eyes wide with shock.

"Cas?" Dean prompted, quietly.

He lowered his hands from his mouth. "Absolutely not."

"What's going on?" Dean asked, growing more concerned.

Cas jumped out of his reach and threw on his slippers.

"Cas?!" Dean ran out of bed, too.

Outside, he found Gabriel pacing back and forth in an attempt to sooth himself. Sam was seated at their dinner table nearby, watching. Sam looked too bewildered to be upset or angry like Gabe. Cas ran up to his brother, yelling into a phone, with an unbelieving look in his eyes.

Dean sat himself down next to Sam, neither one of them sure if this was any of their business.

As Gabriel took a breath to speak, Cas took the opportunity to begin. "Gabriel, it isn't really-"

"Anna, stop it!"

The look on Cas' face was one that Dean will never forget. The perfect median between anger and happiness, terror and confusion, nostalgia and betrayal. It was beautiful and horrifying. Dean turned to see Sam looking no less confused than before.

Gabriel paused for a moment, presumably to allow Anna to say something, and Cas sprinted out the door, slippers and all. They all looked over at the slamming noise.

Sam and Dean both looked to one another, in both confusion and reflex.

"Castiel?!" Gabriel yelled away from the phone and to the source of the disturbance.

With one last glance to Sam, Dean opened the door and left, careful to leave a wedge of it open on his way out.

"Cas?" Dean questioned to the brisk air. He quickly saw the aforementioned running circles in the abandoned road. "Cas!"

Cas looked up to Dean and turned his rotations clockwise. Unsure what to do, Dean met him in one of his loops and joined his jogging. It didn't take long for him to notice Cas' tears flying behind them as the wind blew in their faces. Cas whimpered and fell to his knees, scraping his skin on the blacktop. He hung his head in his hands as Dean ran his fingers soothingly through his hair. Cas moved slightly out of Dean's reach and stretched his body onto the pavement to lie down.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, more worried than any time in recent memory. He'd been sad plenty, but not like this. Not this terror sending chills up his spine and making nausea fill his stomach.

"Just lay with me for a minute. Please." Cas said, begging. Dean couldn't stand it, so he sat by him in one of the lane's many indentations, he fit into it well. "What do you think?" He gestured to the ground.

"The asphalt's surprisingly comfortable."

"Oh, please."

"What?"

"This is crap. It's all crap!" He broke.

"Cas..."

He rocked himself back and forth until Cas was eventually huddled into a fetal position. Dean felt tears prick at his own eyes.

"I didn't talk after she left." He eventually started.

"What?" Dean said, voice breaking in the short syllable.

They heard the wind rustle the barren branches.

"Well, it's not a difficult conclusion, when your sister leaves you and your uncle despises you, that speaking your mind only leads to problems. I was better off staying quiet than I was potentially getting hurt. But then it got harder to talk, it was less of a choice and more of a subconscious dilemma. I barely said a word for a while."

"Castiel..."

"No. Not 'Castiel'. 'Cas'. You call me 'Cas'." He said. "Why do you think Gabriel talks so much? He's not one for silences, so he always tried to fill the ones I'd make. And that made me feel even worse. I was wrong for speaking, and I was wrong for staying silent. Gabe tried to keep me out of school for as long as possible, but we both knew I'd have to go." Cas sat up. "This school started the latest. That's the only reason I came."

"We never would have met." Dean said, fear spiking.

"Funny how things work out." Cas smirked through the tears.

Dean straddled Cas' hips into a slightly uncomfortable position and kissed him, hard. They weren't sure how it happened, but they shifted, allowing them both to stand on their knees and wrap their arms around one another as they continued.

"We're in the middle of the street." Dean laughingly protested after his lips were mostly numb. Cas continued to press wet kisses to his face as they talked.

"No one's driven past as long as we've lived here. The gravel is uneven. It would damage their tires."

Dean took a breath. "What if their tires were already damaged?"

"Then I suppose they'd both become worse."

"Who says they couldn't become better together?"

"You're relentless." Cas laughed, giving Dean a knowing look.

"But you l- like it." Dean said, glad for gaining control over his words.

"That I do." Cas said, releasing their embrace to stand up and wipe his dirty hands on his gym shorts. "They should really repave this thing."

"I don't know," Dean replied, getting up too. "I kinda like it like this." He threw his arm around Cas' shoulders. And they continued farther down the road, together.

...

"Anna says she wants to see us." Gabriel explained as he stuck the frozen pizza in the oven.

"Do you want to see her?" Cas asked.

"I don't know, kid. I mean, we should, right? But..."

"After what she did."

"Exactly. After what she did, it's tough to try and be polite."

They talked about her like she was a stranger. Maybe she was.

Dean signaled to Sam that they should leave, so they walked to his and Cas' room. Dean sat on the bed and Sam sat on a nearby desk-chair. It creaked a bit as he did.

"This is huge," Sam said. At first Dean thought his brother was talking about the chair. 'That's ridiculous.' he thought to himself.'The kid's already taller than four asian gymnasts stacked on top of each other.' "with Anna and everything." He continued.

"Oh yeah. It is" Alright, that makes a lot more sense. "So you know what's going on?"

"Yeah, Gabe told me about it."

Dean wasn't sure exactly how much he meant by 'it'.

"How's Gabriel doing with it?" Dean asked.

"He's alright, I think. It's impossible not to be a little shaken up after something like that happens." Sam paused. "I mean, it's gotta be a reminder of how Zachariah hurt them."

"So you know about that?"

"I'm not sure if I know all of it, but I'm not gonna pry. Besides, I know enough." Sam said.

They heard a loud voice through the thin walls. It was to muffled to decipher, but clearly an argument was beginning.

"Oh, God." Dean said.

The voices got louder. Dean was surprised that he even heard Cas yell a few times. Dean found it much more attractive than he should have, given the circumstances. Cas' voice cracked as he stomped down the hall, closer to his bedroom.

Dean opened the door and handed Cas a pillow which he gratefully took and proceeded to scream into.

Sam gave Dean a look saying 'How did you know to do that?' to which Dean simply shrugged.

"Sorry about that." Cas said, his voice hoarse.

"It's fine, Cas." Sam said.

Cas seemed a bit surprised that Sam was there. He supposed he shouldn't be. Where else would Sam have gone? It was actually a very nice to see him. Cas rubbed at his eyes.

"Hey," Cas sniffled. "Sam? Would it be alright if I helped you with your algebra homework?"

"Oh, sure." Sam replied, confused.

"Great. Dean, could we have this room for a bit?" Cas requested.

Dean was puzzled, but he completely trusted Cas, and they all knew that this was more about him than Sam. "Yeah, no problem." He said, backing out of the room and leaving the door open. He walked down the hall to see Gabriel. Regardless of whose fault the fight had been, he shouldn't have to go through this alone.

He walked into their small living room to find Gabe watching the television with the voices on mute. 'It's an improv game' He'd say. 'You make up what's happening and how they react.' He was mouthing intelligible words at the characters when Dean spoke up.

"Hi, Gabe." He said.

"Oh. Hi, Dean!" Gabriel responded, surprised, and immediately turned on the volume. "Just turned this thing on." He justified."Can I get you something?"

"No, I'm okay, thanks. I actually just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Me? Pfft, I'm fine." Gabriel said, unconvincingly.

"It's alright if you're not, you know."

"No, actually, it's not alright." He snapped. "It's not about how this affects me, it's about how it affects Cas. For a minute I let myself be hurt, I let myself lose it, and that's how the whole damn fight happened. We haven't fought in years, Dean. And it was about Anna. I thought I'd gotten over it."

"Fighting isn't always a bad thing. It means you're passionate."

"This isn't something a kid should have to be passionate about. He shouldn't have to deal with this shit. He should have a nice family, and a nice life ahead of him. He should have all the potential in the world, but he can't. The least I can do is try to make up for it."

"Are you hungry?" Dean asked, stupidly, at a loss for words. Gabriel had essentially just verbalized all of his incoherent thoughts about Sam that constantly repeated their way through his mind. It was a bit overwhelming.

"Sure. Are you?"

"Sure," he lied.

Dean scanned the freezer until he settled upon a frozen pizza. He quickly preheated and stuck it in the oven. After it was all set up, he plopped himself by Gabe and watched whatever crappy program was on. It was called 'Sister Wives'. Perfect.

"So, there are sister-wives, right? Would someone like to tell me why in the Hell you don't see any brother-husbands? That just seems like a step-back for feminism right there." Gabriel said as they watched.

"And what if they all got pets? It seems like it's about time for a 'Sibling Dogs' spin-off to me."

The joke was flimsy at best, but they both laughed hysterically.

After Dean enjoyed the show more than he'd care to admit for ten minutes, the timer beeped and he got and plated the pizza. It was still hot, but they didn't care. He handed a plate to Gabe and kept one for himself.

"I appreciate the pizza." Gabriel said.

"Just consider it a 'thank you'."

"For what?"

"You've done so much for us, you know," Dean started. "and we haven't even begun to repay it. If there's anything we can do, at any time, just let us know."

"Please, I wouldn't just let anyone in here! You've done so much more than I could ever thank you for. You've been amazing for Castiel- Cas. You've given him chances I never thought he'd have again. On that first day of school, he came home with a smile on his face. And I could've sworn I hadn't seem that kid smile for four months. That's when I knew. Someone was special to him. And if someone's important to him, then they're important to me."

"What about Sam?"

"Hey, man, I'm a big brother too. It's a deal-or-no-deal thing. I get that. Besides, I kinda like the kid. You've done a good job."

Dean smiled as he finished his pizza and went to wash his plate.

"Thanks, Gabe." He said as he walked down the hall to see Cas.

…

Even though it was open, he knocked on the door anyways.

"Guys?" Dean said, asking for permission.

"Hello, Dean." Cas responded, his eyes looking less red.

"Hi, Dean!" Sam greeted.

"There's dinner in the kitchen if you're hungry."

"Cool, I'm starving. Thanks so much for the help, Cas." Sam said gratefully, as he left down the hall.

Dean took Sam's exit as his queue to lock the door and sit beside Cas on the bed.

"How are you, Cas?" He asked.

"I'm- I'm alright." Cas responded.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. We'll get through this. We always have, before." And Dean wasn't sure which 'we' he was talking about.

"Do you want to talk at all?"

"Anna's a journalist. And a good one, at that. She tracked down our mother. She was going to see her and wanted to know if we'd like to come."

"How did she find you?"

"same way she found our mother, I suppose. Neither of us are sure if we'd like to see her. Mom or Anna, honestly. But I suggested we continue speaking with her, and Gabriel disagreed. I guess we didn't come to much of a conclusion."

"Gabriel isn't mad at you." Dean offered.

"Did you speak?"

"Yeah. Well, we spoke over the TV."

"What were you watching?" Cas asked.

"Uh, 'Sister Wives'." Dean said, embarrassedly.

"You're kidding me." Cas laughed. "You think you're in a position to judge my music when you watch 'Sister Wives'?"

"It's engaging!" Dean tried to justify, knowing he was failing. He chuckled too.

Dean stopped after a moment, noticing Cas' still evident smile.

"Come on!" Dean said, teasing, and beginning to close the gap between them.

"What?" Cas mocked, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck.

"Stop it." Dean looked down at Cas' parted lips.

"Make me."

Dean pressed his lips to Cas', reveling in the soft feel of it. He'd never tire of being able to do this. Being able to kiss Cas, touch him, just to be with him. Dean was a bit surprised when he felt Cas' tongue rub against his bottom lip. His mouth quickly opened up to the touch, and he let out a groan along with it. Only briefly breaking contact, Cas pushed his way on top of Dean on the bed. Dean's head rested on the pillow and Cas sat directly on top of his crotch.

_Don't get a boner. Don't get a boner. Don't get a boner._

And, of course, he got a boner.

Cas looked down at him briefly, clearly feeling it poke against the back of his sweatpants.

"Cas?" Dean prompted, trying to gauge if this was okay. "Cas, is this-"

He was cut off by Cas grinding down on him.

"Oh, God." Dean gasped. Even through all the layers of clothes, it felt fantastic.

Cas laid down on top of Dean. It was a bit hard to breathe at first, but Cas understood, quickly, putting his legs on either side of Dean's hips. He leaned down to kiss him. It was slow, hesitant, but they began picking up speed. Both of their tongues playfully fighting one another in their mouths.

They broke away to catch their breaths.

"Cas, please." Dean said. "I- I need..."

Cas ground his erection into Dean's. Dean felt his cock twitch at the thought that this was turning Cas on.

They were both a bit unsure of what to do. It was Dean's first time with a guy, and it was Cas first time with... well, anyone. While the thought was scary, it made his more turned on than he would care to admit.

Knowing that, regardless of gender, he had more experience, Dean summoned enough strength to flip them over so that he was on top.

It didn't take long after that. They kissed, they touched, and then they finished. Together.

"We're doing that again." Cas said.

Damn right they were.

...

Their alarm went off six hours later. Not bad for a honeymoon period. They'd cleaned up before falling asleep last night, so there wasn't any unpleasant stickiness. Just the comfort of knowing that they were in each other's arms.

Dean stretched out, kissing Cas cheek. "Good morning, sunshine." He said.

Cas shifted his weight onto his elbow to face Dean. "Good morning, handsome." He replied, kissing his nose as Dean pulled away. He felt himself blushing.

"Good morning, beautiful."

"Good morning, wonderful"

"Good morning, Cas."

"Good morning, Dean."

They smiled and hit the snooze button. A few more minutes couldn't hurt.


	14. Chapter 14

They awoke again after a, lovely, five more minutes of togetherness.

The alarm, however, was not nearly as lovely as them.

They combatted that by kissing.

And kissing again.

And again.

Dean stretched his legs, bumping into Cas' as he did so. Cas had rearranged the room a few times yesterday. He did that a lot. The concrete aspects of space and definitive movement were easier for him to deal with than the complexities of human emotion. Dean respected that. And that meant respecting when he'd walked into the room last night to find the bed in the complete center of the room, rather than huddled against the wall. Truth-be-told, Dean liked it more this way. Neither of them had to wait for the other to get in or out of bed. They could just do whatever felt right to them. No pressure, no boxes. Just them.

"I got dibs on the shower." Dean declared as he stood up and stretched his arms.

"We could shower together." He deadpanned.

And then Dean choked on the breath he'd been taking. He began coughing profusely and he balled his hand into a fist and tried to cover his mouth.

"Are you alright?" Cas asked, full of concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Dean said, attempting to catch his breath during the end of the coughing fit. "Cas, do you know what you just said?" He laughed, nervous.

"Couples often have sex in the shower-"

"Yes, yes they do, Cas." Dean cut him off. Not that the prospect didn't seem appealing, it was just a bit... "I don't want to rush anything." he concluded.

Cas frowned a bit. "It's not rushing. I want to. Don't you?" He asked, disappointed and without the slightest hint of shyness.

"Oh yeah." Dean said quickly, and he realized maybe a bit tooquickly. "I do. Believe me, I do. Just not now."

"Please?"

"Really?"

"Please?" Cas whined.

"Someone's horny this morning."

"I'm horny every morning."

Okay, he did not expect that.

"And you'd never told me before?"

"We weren't dating before. We're dating now. I'm telling you now."

"Are you sure you're ready for that?"

"We've already slept together, Dean."

"Not... Not like that."

Cas gave Dean a confused look.

Recognition suddenly lit his face.

"Oh. Oh. Do you mean-? I didn't think we meant... I just... Oh."

"We don't have to, Cas. Not if you're not ready. Really, it's no big deal."

"No." Cas decided for the both of them. "I want to. Please," he embraced Dean, rubbing at his back. "Please."

Dean saw the pleading look on the boy's face, and took pity.

"Who am I to say no to that?"

Cas smiled, a mischievous, toothy smile.

They both left the bathroom satisfied that day.

...

"Hey, guys" Jo said upon the first time seeing them since the party with no evident malice in her voice.

"Hi, Jo." Dean replied. He nudged Cas who looked a bit flustered.

"Hello." He said, quietly. Dean smiled over at him, which Cas shyly returned before quickly looking down to the floor.

"Awww!" Jo squealed, and immediately covered her mouth with her hands. "Sorry! I didn't mean to do that. You guys are just so cute! And we all think so too. None of us are, like, well, we aren't... you know. Becky is having a freaking field day."

As Dean tried to come up with something to say to that, he felt Cas' hand slip into his own, and he couldn't help the blush that threatened its way to his cheeks as his heart began to pump faster.

Jo glanced down at their joined hands and tried to conceal a giggle. "Well, I'll leave you guys alone. See you at lunch!" She met Becky down the hall, and immediately walked into the bathroom: the girls' bathroom, the holy land of rumor mitosis.

"Cas, can I talk to you?" Dean asked, hesitantly.

"Oh, sure." Cas said, looking more upset and worried than he should. He removed his hand from Dean's.

"No! Nothing like 'that'." He brought them to an abandoned corner near the lockers. "It's just... are you okay with people knowing we're together?" He whispered.

"Of course, Dean." He replied, full volume, and tilting his head in confusion. "I'd like people to know that you're my boyfriend."

"I'm your boyfriend?" Dean asked.

"Do you not want to be?" Cas' face went blank.

"Of course I do!" He rushed. "Cas, it would be an honor to be your boyfriend."

Cas smiled down to the floor. "And it would be a privilege to be yours." He looked up. "So you're okay with people knowing about-"

"About us being each others' boyfriends?" They both grinned at each other. And Dean placed his hand back into Cas'. Cas beamed up at Dean and gripped his hand tighter.

He pressed his lips gently to Cas' hairline and they walked down the hall together. Dean couldn't see Castiel's face, but he'd like to think he was smiling.

…

Dean wouldn't see Cas again until lunch. So, needless to say, he didn't pay attention until then.

Ruby was the only one at the table. So Dean stalled as much as possible while getting his food in the hopes that someone else would show up. Once Chuck showed up and they'd begun what looked like an awkward and flimsy conversation, he took it as his queue to sit down.

"Hey, guys." Dean said upon arrival to the table.

"Hey, Dean." Chuck replied. Ruby remained silent. "And Ruby says 'hi' too... probably." He added carelessly.

Dean looked to Ruby who was deliberately keeping her mouth shut.

It was alright. Dean knew that she wasn't homophobic or jealous of anyone by any means. She was simply mad at his growing happiness.

Chuck started an easy conversation that Dean reluctantly paid attention to.

Just as he'd heard about enough, Cas sat down next to him and Dean's eyes lit up.

Oh yeah, his day was about to get a lot better.

…

Dean was in AP Bio. It was he best class he was placed in, without a doubt. It was simple. It was right or wrong, no room for analysis, no room for questions. Well, that's what he thought until Cas spoke up in class that day.

Mrs. Hester was going on about various topics that weren't at all related to their AP test like usual. Dean was effortlessly tuning her out and passing stupid little notes with Cas about what was going on when she sounded much louder.

"Once a person is 'middle-aged' like myself, their risk for certain diseases heightens significantly. For example, you kids have a much lower chance of contracting melanoma than me." Dean didn't register Cas' hand going up beside him. "Yes, Mr. Novak?"

"Well, the average life expectancy for any given woman in the United States is roughly 82 years. Allowing a four year differentiation on either side of said age, that would mean that 'middle age' ranges from 39 to 43. Now, based on many factors including your appearance, work ethic, and frankly, a somewhat pungent 'old lady smell', I would guess that you are roughly 59-years-old. Allowing the same four year differentiation, you are still nowhere within that range of female middle age."

Everyone went completely quiet. Dean stared at Cas who maintained one of the most stoic and serious faces he'd ever seen on the boy. Mrs. Hester looked, for lack of a better term, pissed. Dean bit his cheek to try and prevent an enormous laugh from escaping.

"May I ask a psychological question, Mrs. Hester?" Castiel, to Dean's amusement, continued.

"You may." She spat.

"Do you believe that older people consider 'middle age' to be later because they want to feel younger, or because they want to feel that they have longer to live?"

The look on Mrs. Hester's face was way too hilarious for Dean not to break out into hysterics.

"Mr. Novak!" She exclaimed, appalled.

"Yes?" Cas asked, completely oblivious. Dean laughed a little harder.

"You will see me for detention after school!"

"Why would I possibly do that?" Cas asked, getting frustrated. He looked to Dean for help.

"Mrs. Hester, he wasn't trying to be disrespectful, really. He was just trying to..." He looked at Cas who gestured for him to continue. "Clarify. He was just trying to clarify."

"Would you like to go to detention with him, Mr. Winchester?"

"Very much so. Yes." He responded, proudly. Cas gave Dean the biggest smile he'd ever seen.

"Both of you talk to me after class." She concluded. She kept talking about something, Dean would never be sure what. He and Cas spent the remaining ten minutes trying to conceal their mutual laughter.

After getting their pretty pink detention slips, Cas grabbed his hand and pulled him into the now deserted hallway. They'd be late, sure. That's why everyone else was gone, but Cas grabbed him and kissed him so hard that it was just shy of being painful.

"Thank you." They kissed again.

"Thank you." Cas kissed Dean's nose.

"Thank you." Cas pulled him in for a hug.

…

Contrary to popular belief, Dean had actually never gotten detention before. Most of the time that was because he left the school too quick to get in any real trouble, but regardless, this was a new experience for him.

"So, you think this is going to go all 'Breakfast Club' on our asses?" Thank god Dean had forced him to see the movie. Otherwise this would be barely any fun at all.

"Do we want it to?" Cas asked.

"Absolutely! I, for one, have always wanted to try one of those Cap'n Crunch sandwiches. I don't know why everyone thought she was weird, I just thought she was awesome."

Cas put his arm around Dean's waist.

"Woah there. You okay?" Dean said, faux-surprised, as he wrapped his arm around Cas' shoulders.

"I'm great, Dean." He nuzzled into Dean and sighed. "Thank you."

The words were threatening to bubble up. Dean was getting worse and worse at holding them back. It wasn't like him to try and censor what he said, but this was far too important to say at the wrong time. Or, as Dean thought for now, any time. "Thank you." Dean finally replied, barely audible. But Cas heard him. Cas always heard him.

…

Unfortunately, detention was nothing like what the movies advertised. It was quiet, boring, and pointless. There were about ten other kids there, and he and Cas passed notes that he's sure would have earned them another detention. All they had them do was them sit there and copy their school's handbook for an hour.

'How stupid is this?' Cas' first note said.

'You started the note-writing? Someone's feeling rebellious!' Dean penned back. Cas squinted a bit, but, thankfully, he could read Dean's ridiculous chicken scratch.

'They could at least have us do something useful.'

'Then this would be 'meaningful-study-time'. Instead, this is just stupid. Are we supposed to memorize this or something?'

Dean saw Cas get a mischievous glint in his eye. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was a bit more scared than he was excited.

'Let's go make out.'

Forget that, he was excited.

'Right now?'

'Yes.'

'How?'

'Just follow my lead.'

Cas quickly copied one last sentence from the handbook and stood up.

"I have to go to the bathroom." He announced.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Novak, you'll have to wait." Mrs. Hester replied, carelessly.

"I- I have-" He stuttered, looking down at Dean and tried to suppress a giggle. He winked, looked Mrs. Hester dead in the eye and proudly exclaimed "I have diarrhea."to the entire classroom. Dean looked up at him with a look on his face somewhere between murder and hysterical laughter.

"Oh." Mrs. Hester replied, unsureness rivaled only by concern. "Are you sure?"

"Are you willing to risk it?"

"No. No, definitely not. Alright, you can go to the bathroom."

"Thank you." Cas replied. He grabbed his bag, walked out of the room and waved to Dean through the doorway.

"Mrs. Hester?" Dean called, afraid he'd start hysterically laughing at any moment.

"Oh god, what is it now?" She lamented.

"I... I, well..." He looked out the door again to see Cas covering his mouth in an attempt not to laugh. It gave him all the confidence he needed to discretely spill his bottle of water on his pants and declare "I peed myself!" perhaps a bit too excitedly.

"No you did not." Mrs. Hester said. Dean saw it as a test.

He stood up, showing off the stain slightly darker than the rest of his pants. He was glad he'd worn light jeans today. Reactions ranged from gasps to laughs to 'ewww!'s', but he didn't care. Soon he'd be with Cas and out of this place.

"I have a condition." He explained, barely containing his laughter.

"Just go." She said, exasperated.

He took his bag, threw out the cup on his way out the door, and bowed to the remainder of the students while Mrs. Hester had her back turned.

"I cannot believe I just did th-" Dean was cut off by Cas' lips on his.

"Wow, you really weren't kidding about th-" Cas kissed him again.

"The making out? No, I wasn't."

"That was quite the performance back there." Dean laughed.

"Well, it was worth it. You can't possibly tell me that, that wasn't awful."

"Yeah, but it was kinda embarrassing for you."

"At least I don't have 'a condition'." He mimicked.

"Yeah, yeah." Dean said, smiling and kissing him again.

"Come on." Cas said, grabbing his hand and beginning to run down the hall.

"Where are we going?" Dean asked.

"Anywhere!" Cas replied.

They stopped right outside of Mrs. Hester's room. It seemed only fitting, after all, that they'd use that room. All of them were empty, sure, all the students left a half an hour ago and it was too early for the janitorial service to come in, but this room just seemed perfect.

Dean sat down at his usual desk and Cas placed his bag on the chair in front of it. He straddled Dean's hips and leaned down to kiss him, slow and passionate. He slipped his tongue into Dean's mouth because, after all, he did say he wanted to 'make out'.

They kept going like that for a while, both of them upset when they inevitably eventually had to separate for air.

"Do you feel less sick now, Cas?" Dean asked, laughing into their shared air.

"How's that water stain doing on the front of your pants? You're not as smooth as you think you are, you know."

"Oh, I think I'm very smooth."

"Do you?"

Dean leaned forward to kiss him again, but they didn't get too far this time before they heard high heels clicking their way down the hall.

"Crap!" Dean said, voice lowering.

"Hide!" Cas lifted himself from Dean's lap, gave a lingering kiss to Dean's forehead, and yanked him up by the shoulder. He dragged them both to the supply closet, careful not to make a sound.

"Shit!" Cas whispered into the darkened space between them.

"Did you just swear?" Dean asked. "This is actually kinda hot-"

"I left my things out there!"

"Be right back!" Call it adrenalin or whatever else you'd like, but Dean ran out into the room as fast as he could, bypassing a confused and scared Cas on the way. He grabbed the backpack and trench coat and shut the closet door behind him just as the door began to rattle.

"Dean, you idiot!" Cas somehow managed to yell while still whispering.

"Shh! You're way too-" Cas' mouth was searching for his even in the dark. It took a bit longer than he'd intended, definitely, but it wasn't long before they connected.

Someone, almost definitely Mrs. Hester, opened the door and began to snoop around

Cas pulled off and tried to see through the tiny crack they'd left in the door. Dean was too happy at the moment to do much of anything. He looked at his boyfriend and found it hard not to maintain his dumb smile.

She looked a bit through her desk, pulled out a stack of papers, let out a, what Cas thinks was a, melodramatic sigh and left the room. Locking it on her way out.

After a minute or two, Cas turned to Dean who was barely concealing his laughter at this point. He was scared shitless, sure, but this was pretty freaking awesome.

"I think we're good to go out." Cas whispered.

"Yeah, probably." Dean said, shrugging it off as he kissed Cas again.

Eventually, they quietly squeaked the door open and carefully clicked it shut.

Dean laughed harder, and looked directly at Cas. "I just find it a little funny that we both just came out of the closet."

They laughed, and before they knew it, they were kissing again.


	15. Chapter 15

There was a knock on the door.

It knocked again.

And once more.

"Hello?" A female voice hollered from the other side of the wall.

"Who is-" The words died in Cas' throat as Gabe abruptly stood, accidentally knocking over his soda in the process. "Anna?" He mouthed to his brother, who gave a less than convincing shrug in return. "I can get it; it's- I'm..." He trailed off, looking to the stained window on the door and seeing a blur of red. Her hair had been auburn.

"No." Was all Gabe said in reply. He walked cautiously toward the red.

The door opened with its tell-tale squeal, but it sounded louder than usual as it festered in the house's current silence.

Her hair was redder than it had been, definitely. It was shinier too. Even from his seat on the couch in the adjoining room it was shinier than Cas had seen it in a long time, maybe ever. She looked- she looked wonderful. Even with the nostalgic and likely put-upon frown clouding her features, she looked happy. He figured it should make him mad, but it couldn't help but make him feel a bit better too.

"Hi, Gabe—Gabriel." She corrected.

"Anna." It was more a statement than a greeting.

"How are-"

"What's-"

They both started at the same time, stopping in an attempt to allow the other to speak. The silence was weighing down on Gabe like a bunch of sandbags. Cas could tell. He didn't handle quiet in a particularly good way. He'd say anything, literally anything, just in a desperate attempt to stop having to drag the sand along. He felt too much of the responsibility was on him; to carry a conversation, to carry the weight. He didn't understand that the weight could be as helpful to him as he was to it.

"How did you find us?" Gabe asked, eventually.

"I told you," She gestured to herself. "I'm a journalist. I can find these things."

"That seems like an invasion of privacy."

"You stopped returning my calls."

"You did?" Cas interrupted.

"Castiel!" She called, unable to hide her excitement. "How are you?" She regained a bit of her composure.

"I'm good, Anna," He said, knowing it was an overly simplified answer to a very complex question. "really good."

"I'm glad to hear that." She really was.

Gabe and Anna stood in the doorway, neither one entirely sure how to proceed.

"Would you like to come in?" Gabe finally offered, but Cas knew he only extended the pleasantry out of desire to feel freer.

"That would be great." She responded, carefully. She walked ahead of Gabe in the doorway, unsure of where to go. She sat down next to Castiel after considering her surroundings. "This is a very nice house." She said.

"It's a piece of crap." Gabe answered, disdainfully.

"Then you must have a very elevated definition of 'crap'."

"Oh, believe me, sister, I know crap when I see it, and this," he gestured blindly, moving his hands all over the place. Cas wasn't sure what he was actually trying to draw attention to. "This is crap."

"I like it." Cas quietly protested.

"So do I." Anna added.

"You've been here for two minutes. How the Hell would you know enough to like it?"

The silence was there again, but this time, Gabe didn't fight it. "You two seem happy." She said. "That's why I like it."

"And how do you know we're happy?" Gabe emphasized the word, as if angry at it, too, for abandoning him.

"Your eyes." She responded.

"That is such a bullshit answer!"

"No it's not, Gabe. Look at you, look at where you are. You're out. Both of you're free."

"This isn't freedom. This is just a different kind of captivity. Unlike you, we don't have the money or the resources to be 'free'. At least not now."

"Now that's just not true."

"Oh really? How is that not true?"

"Gabe, how many jobs do you have?"

"Two."

"Are they boring?"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?"

"I would assume so." Cas said, a bit louder than before.

"You have the right to have those jobs. That's freedom. You can say what you want, you can do what you want. And, right now, if what you want happens to be what you need, then so be it."

"No, Anna, this crap is permanent. I can't do anything about it!"

"If you don't want something to be permanent, then it's not." Cas said just as loud as his siblings.

"Exactly, Cas. Exactly! Gabe, you may be snowed in by layers and layers of mediocrity right now, but you have earned the right to that monotony. And there is wiggle room. There's space in that snow for happiness. For your happiness, for Cas', for mine. And that's not to say that you'll only ever have that monotony and that space by any means. You have Cas, you have this house, which is lovely by the way, you have your two jobs. And no matter how shitty they are, they need you to show up for work and I'd bet you a million dollars that no one would do those crap jobs like you. Your bosses may not recognize that, your landlord may not recognize that, mom may not have recognized that, but there are people out there who do. Don't think for a second that no one knows. It's haunted me for years. I shouldn't have left you guys. I was wrong. I was stupid and immature and impulsive, but I want to make things better now. And you think me looking at your eyes to get what I need to know is stupid, but I can see it there. Because god forbid you guys would actually tell me about this stuff! I see you, Gabe. You feel unappreciated but it's all worth it to you because you know Cas is thriving. Which he is! Look at you, Cas! You look fantastic! There's more life in you than I've ever seen. I know all the crap you guys went through was difficult, and I made it even worse by leaving, but look at what it lead to. Look at you guys today. I'm proud of you guys."

"You don't deserve to be." Gabe said, feebly.

"I know, but I want to be someday. Will you give me that chance?"

"It's not too late for you, Anna." Cas replied.

"Thank you." Was all she said. They turned on the TV.

…

About an hour into a marathon of 'The Office', Dean came home with Sam from the library. The kid actually went to the library, huh.

"Honey, I'm home!" Dean called out entering the house.

"Guys!" Gabe responded, running to the doorway.

"Cas, who are they?" Anna asked, confused.

"Oh, uh- they're..."

"Anna?!" She heard one of the boys yell from the other room. Great.

"Yes! Shh, be quiet! She'll hear you!" Gabe stage-whispered.

"I already can!" She sing-songed.

"Shit!" Gabe, still, stage whispered.

Dean stormed into the living room, and Cas shut off the TV.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm seeing my brothers." She answered, confidently. "What are you doing here?"

"We live here!" Dean said. Strange as it was, even with them having stayed there for a month and a half, no one had ever actually said that they really did 'live' there. It took all of them a few moments to fully understand the gravity of what he'd just said, and it took Anna a few moments just to understand what the Hell was going on.

"What?" Anna asked, disbelievingly.

"We live here with your brothers." Sam replied.

"Well this is news to me." Anna said, but realized that of course she wouldn't know because she hadn't talked to Cas or Gabe for five years. "Who are you?" She said before anyone got the chance to point that out.

"Anna, this is Sam," Cas gestured toward each of the respective brothers. "And this is Dean. Sam is Dean's brother and Dean is my boyfriend." Cas stopped in his tracks when he realized that he'd just told him that Dean was...

"Your boyfriend?!" Anna exclaimed.

"Yeah, hold up a minute. What?" Sam asked.

"It's about damn time!" Everyone looked at Gabe. "Come on, guys, it was obvious... and I saw you cuddling a week ago. I just let you keep sleeping. You looked cute! Sue me."

"You were cuddling, Dean? That's adorable!" Sam said.

"Cas, I will never stop getting shit for this."

"Sorry."

"Are you really?"

"No, not at all."

"Mazel Tov!" Gabe added.

Dean put his arm around Cas, and he moved into Dean's side. He'd never get over just how comfortable he felt there.

"Hey, Cas, can I show you something?" Dean asked, turning his head to face Cas.

"Sure."

"C'mon." Dean adjusted and grabbed his hand.

"Awww!" Both Sam and Anna squeaked simultaneously.

"You wanna give them something to really 'awww' about?"

"What do you-?"

Dean kissed him. And Cas kissed back. Cas had the freedom to kiss back. He had the freedom to be happy.

"Awwwwwww!" This time it was Gabe's squeak that prevailed.

Dean moved away from Cas' mouth and looked at his eyes. He saw something. It wasn't quite admiration, it wasn't quite trust, it almost looked like... well, anyhow Dean found it damn terrifying, and he was even more scared to realize he was pretty sure he had the same look. Dean's gaze moved down at Cas' lips to find they'd been quirked into a smile. Still, after all this time, Dean was transfixed by something as small as his smile. He pulled Cas by the hand down the hallway and into their room, being chased by catcalls all the way there.

"They are so cute." Anna said.

"They are totally gonna bone." Gabe commented.

"Gabe!"

"What?" He asked.

"Ew!"

The sound of them stumbling and kissing down the hallway was all that was necessary to confirm Gabe's theory.

"Dean, wasn't there something you wanted to show me?"

"What?"

"Back in the living room, you said-"

"Oh! No, that was a lie." He laughed.

"Why?"

"There was something in your hair."

"You slept with me because there was something in my hair?"

"Among other things."

"You, Dean Winchester, are an enigma."

"Then what does that make you?"

"The boyfriend of an enigma."

"Don't sell yourself short! You aren't exactly simple, either."

"Then I guess we go well together."

"I guess so."

Cas wrapped Dean into his arms. When he was half asleep he felt him whisper something into his hair. He'd never know exactly what he said, but he nuzzled deeper into Cas' chest in response.


	16. Chapter 16

"Cas, Gabe, can I talk to you?" Sam and Dean's ears perked up. "Alone."She specified, indiscreetly looking to them.

They groaned into their respective bowls of cereal and started down the hallway to Cas' room. The sun was shining bright, hardly a cloud in the sky, but Dean kept the shades closed.

"I wanted to talk about mom." she said with little pretense.

"What about her?" Gabe asked, angrily.

"I found her."

Cas choked on the toast he was eating.

"You're lying." Gabe concluded.

"wanna bet?" She challenged, to which he said nothing. "She wasn't hard to find. She's in Gordon, Nebraska. God knows why she picked there. She's a hair dresser, has been for ten years. I couldn't find a paper trail from any earlier."

Gabe and Cas simultaneously took a large breath in, then out.

"Do you have an address?" Gabe asked, breaking the silence.

"355 Weston Street, zip code: 69343."

"You memorized it?"

"I made a file. I brought it with me, if you'd like to see it."

Castiel said nothing.

"I'd like to see it." Gabe offered, conclusively.

Anna gave an empathetic smile and went toward her bag.

"Do you even want to see mom?" Cas whispered to Gabe, quickly.

"Hells yeah! Somebody needs to show her what a bitch she is!"

"I don't think that's the right way to go about this, Gabriel."

"Then what is?"

"She needs to know that she has no impact on our lives anymore."

"Yeah, well, I'll be sure to tell her that the minute it becomes true."

"Touché, but regardless. This is a bad idea."

"You don't have to be scared."

"I'm not scared."

"Are you sure? Because, to me, you look pretty scared!"

Anna walked back to see them in a near-cat fight.

"Am I interrupting something?" She asked.

"No." They each said.

She eyed them back and forth, clearly not believing it. She handed them the manilla folder, labelled 'Carol Reed' in big, black, intimidating letters.

"She didn't even bother to change her name?" Gabriel asked, almost offended.

"No, not legally, anyway. Apparently everyone in her town knows her as 'Anne'. It's a small place."

"Why 'Anne'?" Cas asked.

"Apparently, it was her sister's name." Anna answered.

"Were you named after her?"

She thought for a moment. "I don't know, and, frankly, I don't care. Anne died about six months before I was born. She was driving home from a party and was, reportedly, shitfaced."

"Shouldn't we not be speaking ill of the dead, or something?" Gabe asked.

"She collided with another car, killing the three people inside instantly."

They sat in silence.

"Why had we never heard about 'Anne'?" Gabe said, testing the syllable in his mouth.

"Anne was mom's half sister. She was the daughter of our grandmother and... and the milkman."

"The milkman?" Cas tilted his head to the side.

"Damn, grandma!" Gabe called. Anna fixed him with a death-stare.

"She looked a lot like you, Castiel. Dark brown hair, bright blue eyes. I've got a picture of her somewhere if you'd like to see." She said.

Gabe looked like he was about to speak.

"No." Cas said, cutting him off. "No, I'd rather not."

"Okay." She understood. Anna went to press a hand on Cas' shoulder, but he visibly recoiled before getting the better of himself.

"I—I'm gonna go." He uttered, getting out of his chair and walking out of the breakfast-nook. He turned the corner down the hallway and knocked on his door. Funny, how he was knocking on his own door. He felt like a stranger in someone else's home.

"Yes?" He heard Sam's pubescent voice crack and he snickered to himself.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course, dude!"

Cas opened the door carefully, unsure as to the reason why.

"I can't see her, Dean." Cas said, standing in the doorway.

"See who?" He asked.

A tear fell down Cas' cheek.

"Woah, woah." He leapt out of his chair and tried to wipe the tear away with his thumb, but the residual water left a shiny stain that Dean could do nothing about.

"Sam, why don't you go watch some TV?" Dean suggested, still looking Cas dead in the eye.

"Sure. Yeah, okay." He replied, unsure of what to say.

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea." Cas said, wrapping his arm around Dean's waist for support.

Sam and Dean gave him questioning looks, prompting him farther.

"Anna and Gabriel are-" He was cut off by the sound of Gabe yelling 'Jesus, Anna!' in the distance. "well... that."

"Head out to the car, Sam." Dean said.

"The car?" He asked. They hadn't used it since the funeral, it had just been sitting dormant, collecting leaves and rust as the days wore on.

"Do your homework." Dean ordered, throwing him the keys. Sam left the room, grabbing his backpack on the way out.

Cas made the noise of a choked sob

"Cas, what's going on?" He asked, giving Cas a moment.

"Anna found our mother." Cas stared at the floor.

"Oh my god." Dean said, at a loss of what to say.

"I can't see her."

"Why not?" Dean asked, a bit angrily.

"She left us. She doesn't deserve to see us. Not now, and not ever."

"She's your mother."

"That doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters!" He snapped. "Do you know what I'd do to have my mom back? I'd do anything! Sam never even got to meet her. Instead, we got a broken-beyond-repair father. We got alcoholic, abusive, terrified, John. You don't know who your mother is. Maybe she's too embarrassed to contact you, maybe she never wants to see you again I don't fucking know; the point is that she's alive! She's still alive, and you've still got a chance to make things right. I'd kill for that chance, Cas! I'll never be able to clear things up with either of them, and I know how much damage that can do. I won't let you go through the same thing."

"That's just a load of shit." Cas deadpanned. Hearing him swear was still so foreign to Dean, it made him uncomfortable. "Listen, Dean, you need to know that this has nothing to do with you. This is about my mother, and my family. I understand that your family situation, frankly, sucks, and mine does too, but don't you ever compare them. Our parents are different people; drastically so. So don't you dare tell me what to do in regards to my decisions."

Then he felt something. It crept up the back of his neck, leaving it both burning and freezing. He gave a quick shiver, and tried to will it away. He couldn't. All the while, it was getting stronger, more noticeable. His stomach began to flip. He could feel an unhealthy amount of adrenalin beginning to pump through his veins. He pressed his palms together, rubbing them against each other and feeling the sweat and dead skin clump together. His neck got harder to ignore, so he moved a friction-heated hand to cradle it. It didn't affect the uncomfortable, prodding temperature in the slightest. His heart was pumping a million miles a minute, even if that was an exaggeration, he knew it was far too fast to be healthy. He raised his middle and index fingers up to check his pulse.

"Are you even listening?!" Cas near-yelled.

"Y-y-yes." Was he stuttering? Dean didn't stutter. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead and his stomach gave a dissatisfied rumble he hoped only he could hear. He thought he was about to throw up, but his stomach was too weak to do it.

Cas' face slowly changed from one of hurt and anger, to one of concern. "Dean? Are you alright?"

No. Dean thought to himself. What the Hell is happening? He had the overwhelming urge to get the Hell out of there. He had to run away. He had to. His brain was leaving him no other option. He had to haul-ass and get out of here. There was simply no more fight in him.

"I gotta go." Dean said, returning his hands to rubbing up against one another.

"Dean, you're shaking." Cas reached out a hand to take Dean's.

"Don't touch me!" He yelled. Cas looked like he'd been slapped. "S-sorry. I didn't mean that. I just... I- I gotta go."

"What's wrong?" He took a step back.

Dean felt a spike of the overwhelming feeling race through his chest "I'm so sorry C-Cas."

"For what?" He looked almost as terrified as Dean.

Dean's pupils began flicking back and forth, observing the tiny details of the room he'd never noticed before.

"I gotta go." He repeated like a mantra. "I gotta go. I gotta go. I gotta go." He paced back and forth, circling the door, but not quite exiting the room.

"No you don't, Dean. You don't have to go."

"Am I having a heart attack?" Dean asked quickly, walking much too close to Cas.

"Dean, you're scaring me." Cas said, taking another step back.

"Cas, I'm not trying to scare you. I'm far too busy being scared to scare you." He rubbed a sweaty palm over his forehead, rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

"Maybe I should get Gabriel." Cas began to walk toward the door.

"No!" He yelled again. "Oh god. I-I-I'm so sorry. I just... I don't know what's happening. I can't... I need to take care of this myself," another spike. "Like always."

"No, Dean. You don't need to," it receded for a moment. "Not anymore."

"I-" He thought of John and another pump of adrenalin involuntarily shot through him. "I'm done. We're done. It's done."

Cas frantically shook his head, mouthing 'no' as Dean actually walked out the door.

"Dean, wait!" Cas called as Dean stormed down the hallway.

He turned backward and made the fatal mistake of looking Castiel in the eye. His pain-filled, heart-wrenching, tear-drenched eyes.

"Don't go... please."

"Why?" Dean wasn't even sure what this emotion was.

"Because... because I love you!" His voice cracked.

The air weighed a thousand pounds. "N-n-no, Cas, not like this." Dean begged.

"I love you, Dean. Don't leave, please. I love you!" He cried.

"It w-wasn't supposed to b-be like this."

"I'm sorry. What can I do? I'll do whatever-"

"There's nothing you can do! It's just- I... I gotta to go."

"Dean!" Cas desperately yelled as the boy he loved walked out the door. "Dean!"

Dean ran to the car. It was strange to see Sam in it. He hadn't used it since John's death. Funny how a new tragedy forces you to move on from the last.

"Dean..." Sam began.

"Do you have your books?"

"What?"

"Do you have all your school stuff?" He elaborated.

"Yeah, in the backseat. Why?"

"Let's go."

"Where?"

"The motel."

"Dean, what are you talking about?"

"Something happened."

"What 'happened'?"

If only Dean knew.

"I've got enough money for a few weeks... and, and I'll need to pick up some extra hours at work, maybe miss some school, but that's not a problem. I can just... I don't know. I'll figure out something. We always figure out something, right, Sam? I can just... we'll figure out something." He changed the subject.

"Dean, stop!" Sam demanded, getting his brother's attention. "Look at me." Dean did. His eyes were glassy, as if beyond crying.

"Are you and Cas okay?"

"I gotta go." He muttered.

"What?"

"I gotta go. I gotta go. I gotta go." He continued.

Dean wanted to go home, but he'd just stormed out of it, and, with it, he'd left his best comfort sobbing in the doorway, when all he had to say was 'I love you, too,'.

"Where do you have to go?"

"The m-m-motel." He repeated, his tongue betraying what he wanted to say. The freezing heat raced up his spine again. He pressed hard on the gas, lucky that the car was in park, they heard the engine attempt to move, being held back by the stubborn wheels.

"I thought you said we'd never go back there." Sam said, evidently confused and worried.

Dean couldn't answer through the tears that caused a massive, choking lump in his throat.

Cas had collapsed onto the floor of the living room and leaned on the wall closest to the front yard. He heard Anna and Gabriel yell in the background as he cupped his face with his hands and did his best to muffle the sounds of his tears escaping. "I love you." He whispered, but no one was listening.


	17. Chapter 17

It was Hell. It all was Hell. Moving, eating, breathing. It all hurt. It was like a piece of him had been ripped away and terror had been put in its place. He just wanted his comfort back. He just wanted Cas.

Dean thought he was stronger than this. He really did. He'd promised himself a long, long time ago, almost too long to ago to remember, that he'd never let Sam see him try. He broke his promise that day. He broke his promise that day, and every day since. Time went by in a series of grueling eternities that, to the rest of the world, felt like any other seconds. He wasn't sure what was worse, the crippling anxiety, or being too weak to do anything but push the one he loved away from him.

He'd woken up crying every day that week. He was greeted with a fresh bit of terror each morning, it felt like shoving salt into a paper cut that kept getting bigger and bigger.

He tried to hide the shaking, but he knew he wasn't very good at it. Sam would walk over to his bed and put a hand on his shoulder, just so that he'd know he wasn't alone. Thank god for that.

"I'm sorry, Sam." He'd say, unsure if Sam could actually hear what he was saying through the gag of a pillow that didn't do much but catch his tears. It almost seemed like the pillow was crying, too.

Dean was too scared to go outside for the next few days. I've used up my fight. He thought. I'm useless. He was reduced to a sad little ball of flight.

It was on his fifth day home that Sam said something.

"Dean, we've got to get you help." A spike, smaller, weaker, but relentless.

He could do nothing but nod as he collapsed into his little brother's arms, furious with himself for staining the boy's shirt.

…

Dean walked down the eerie hallway. He'd never been in this wing of the school before. It was mostly for honors students and, apparently, people with mental disorders. Dean wondered if they intertwined often. His name was Mr. Roman, but he went by Dick. All the kids thought it was because he wanted to hide the fact that he didn't have a medical license and was, by no means, a doctor.

He knocked on the door and was greeted by a man in strangely formal business attire. If stories had told him anything, it was that this was the aforementioned Mr. Roman.

"Dick." He introduced, offering a hand begging to be shaken.

"Dean." He took it.

They sat.

"So, Dean, how are you?"

So it begins.

"I'm... I'm okay." He paused, unsettled by the silence, but he fought the overwhelming urge to fill it.

"Why did you decide to come here, today?" He, Dick, finally asked.

"I'm just doing it for my brother." He deflected. He wasn't lying per se.

"What's his name?"

"Sam." Dean answered.

"Why do you think he want you to come here, today?"

"He's worried... about me."

"Should he be?" Dick asked.

"I guess so."

"And why is that?"

"Because I've been worried too."

"About what?"

"Everything." He replied, without thinking. "Sorry, that sounds stupid."

"I disagree."

"Of course you disagree, you're a goddamn shrink! You're all 'feelings are beautiful' and 'friendship is motherfucking magic'!" Dean paused, catching a breath he didn't know he'd lost. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

"So... you've been irritable lately?"

"A bit."

They fell into an easy conversation about Sam. He knew Dick could tell that, that was a safe topic. Before Dean knew it, their hour was up. Not that he was going to go to his next class, anyway.

"Well, that just about does it." Dean said, looking down at his watch and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Wait, Dean?" Dick started, making Dean nervous. "I'd like to make another appointment with you."

"What more is there to talk about?"

"You tell me."

Dean rolled his eyes and left the room, leaving Dick watching him from just inside the room. He kept walking, staring at his feet and hoping that no one saw where he'd been. That's when he bumped into someone.

They fell over with little resistance, really. They winced a bit as they hit the ground, Dean immediately felt bad. Another spike rose in his stomach at the thought of being watched by everyone nearby.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry." Dean said, voice rough and wavering.

The boy seemed to be hiding his face as he mumbled, "That's quite alright." into his jacket sleeve.

"No, it's really not. Here, let me help you up." He offered a hand for him to grab.

The boy had dark hair, nearly black. It was dull, it looked kind of greasy, it almost looked like... "Cas?"

"Hello, Dean." He sounded defeated as he removed his arm from his face.

The sight tore Dean apart. Cas looked entirely empty, his bright blue eyes had resorted to a sad gray, his pink lips now a lifeless purple. If Cas looked this worn out, he couldn't even imagine how he'd look to a stranger.

The corners of Dean's lips gave a small twitch upward despite himself. He couldn't deny how ecstatic he was to see the boy, even when he'd broken both of their hearts only a few days ago.

Dean looked toward the books they'd dropped and began to pick them up.

Cas was quiet, much too quiet, when a drop of salt water hit Dean's hand. Cas was crying.

"Oh, god, Cas." Dean said, putting his hand on the other boy's. Dean felt his heart drop into his stomach when Cas flinched back.

"How are you feeling?" Cas asked, sniffling a bit and rubbing his eyes with his other hand.

"That's not important."

"Of course it's important, Dean."

"I'm alright."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'll be alright." He said, assuring both Cas and himself.

"Good. That's good. Well, I gotta- I should really get going." Dean grabbed his arm.

"Wait, Cas." Again, Cas flinched back, this time taking his arm entirely away.

"Are you... are you okay?"

"I didn't think you'd care." He responded, coldly.

"No shit, I care!"

"Could have fooled me."

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. But all that aside, man, I need to know you're okay, you mean too much to me not to."

Cas seemed to consider Dean's words for a moment before coming to a decision. "No, I'm not okay! I am the opposite of okay. But, as far as I'm concerned, that's none of your damn business!" He snapped.

"Cas, don't do this."

"It's 'Castiel' to you." He began to stand up, pain and hurt evident in his eyes. "Oh, and I didn't do this. You did."

Dean stayed and watched as Cas walked away from him, trying to keep his own tears from falling. He'd left Cas in his time of need, now Cas was just returning the favor. , Dean felt a tall presence by his side.

"See you tomorrow?" Dick asked, looking down at him. He was clearly trying for sympathy, but he got more cockiness than anything else.

"Yeah, yeah." Dean took the little appointment card from the man's hand shortly before Dick sped back down the hall.

Dean sat on the ground, alone, attempting picking up the remainder of his books. He couldn't find all of them, Cas had taken some with him.

…

Dean laid back farther onto the lumpy mattress. His neck was propped at a strange angle as he skimmed through John's journal again. For the fifth, maybe sixth, time, he reached the last page. The end of the story.

He noticed an extra flap of material, nearly undetectable. It was hardly elevated from the rest of the leather back. He peeled at it. Something in the back of his mind told him not to damage the book, but he couldn't help feeling that this was something he was supposed to find. That he needed to find.

He kept picking, and he eventually noticed the section's coloring was a bit lighter than that around it. Dean was sure that if he hadn't looked so closely, he never would have seen it.

The flap gave in, and Dean stripped it off. It was a picture, well, the back of one anyway. It was written on with dark blue ink.

November 1, 1983

Lawrence, Kansas

Dean knew what it was before he even flipped it over.

They stood outside of their old house, foliage offering a beautiful backdrop for them. Sam, six months old, was held in Mary's welcoming arms. John was stood beside her, one hand on her shoulder, the other on a four-year-old Dean's. His grin was wide and all-encompassing. It was one of the last times John Winchester was really, truly happy.

Then Dean understood. The transition from a 'would', to a 'would've'. How the ability to understand someone transcends dying. Stories don't end with death. A person's story never actually ends. Every passing day, with them or without them, adds another detail. Through everyone else's existence, ours are altered, enhanced. As long as the rest of the world continue their own stories, so will Mary and John.

And he'd be damned if he didn't make his story fantastic.


	18. Chapter 18

Dean hadn't expected to open up to a shrink, he really didn't. And it's not like he enjoyed it, but every day after he walked out of that well-lit room, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Additionally, Dick's name was accurate, so Dean relished weighing the man down as he felt lighter and lighter. It may have been a bit malicious, sure, but sue him for trying to make the best out of a bad situation.

"Are you alright with being gay, Dean?" Dick asked, skillfully moving a coin through the separations of his fingers.

"I'm not gay." He looked up.

"Your ex-boyfriend would likely say otherwise."

The prefix still hurt. "That's not what I meant." He settled upon. "I don't care about that. Getting laid is getting laid, all the same."

"By that logic, do you not classify yourself as having a labeled sexuality?"

"No, it's not that. I'm not ashamed of liking guys, or liking Cas, or whatever. I'm bi, probably. Not because I need to label myself, but because everyone else seems to want me to."

"How do you figure that?" Dick asked.

"It's not like I actively look at every last male and female specimen and say to myself 'that! I will tap that!', it's more that I call myself bi for the sake of leaving my options open."

"Oh, excuse me." He said, a bit incredulously.

"You're excused."

Silence filled the room in a way that Dean was getting more and more used to. Damn therapists. He thought.

"So, Dean, I'd like to talk about your relationship with Castiel." He said.

"Why?" Dean deflected.

"I believe that your and his relationship is the core to your anxiety."

Dean hated that word. The word, regardless of meaning, made him feel uncomfortable. The combination of letters and noises, it sounded so harsh, so nerve-wracking in and of itself. The way that the word looked on paper, the way it flew out of people's mouths, it made him feel like he was reduced to his nervousness' will. That made him feel weak, the weakness made him feel vulnerable, and the vulnerability made him feel nervous. It was a deadly cycle. That was something Dean was used to: deadly cycles.

"He hasn't talked to me since... well, you saw what happened in the hallway." It had been nearly two weeks ago. Dean had been running it through his head non-stop. Each time, it made him more and more nervous that he'd never have that again, and more and more nervous of the vulnerability it would take to try and win him back. Both of them fed off the other. Again: a deadly cycle.

"Do you want him to?"

"Obviously."

"What makes it so obvious?"

"Because I..." He trailed off, unable to come up with the correct words. Dick seemed to understand.

"Is it possible that, without him, you wouldn't do anything for yourself?"

Dean hadn't told Dick about before, about mom or dad, nor did he ask. Dean made a decision not to, and chocked it up to him being a shit therapist that he didn't find out or ask questions. His previous statement was making him start to change his mind.

"I miss him, man." Dean admitted.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Dick called. Dean thought that this must be breaking all kinds of confidentiality laws. But this wasn't a doctor-patient thing so... was it really? Well, in any case, he jumped up and hid behind a conveniently placed, bulky desk.

The door opened. Dean held his breath.

"Hello, Mr. Roman." Said a familiar, gravelly voice.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me 'Dick', Castiel?" Dean choked a bit as he swallowed.

"That name makes me uncomfortable." Castiel stated.

"You're here early." Dick said.

"I didn't have anywhere else to do."

"You seemed busy enough to come fashionably late to our other appointments." He seemed to stress.

Other? Dean thought. Why did Cas need to come here? Shrinks are for crazy people... like me. Cas is too perfect to be here. And then Dean's mind couldn't stop itself. You did this to him. You broke him. You took him apart and didn't have the humanity to put him back together. It's all your fault. Everything is all your fault. He noticed the tiny confines of the desk he'd huddled under. With his arms around his legs, and the conversation going on within earshot, it was almost as if he could pretend him and Cas were together. It was almost as if he could pretend he hadn't fucked everything up... almost.

Dean rubbed his palms up and down his jean-clad knees, the denim rough on his fingers, but not uncomfortable. He tried to focus on the feeling of the material, but all he could think about was how badly he missed that voice talking to him, wanting him, loving him. Not like you deserve it.

He couldn't take it. This feeling was almost as bad as the one he'd felt in Cas' bedroom, but it had a new flavor to it: sadness. He was sweating again, breathing much too loudly. He was sure Cas could hear it, but a part of himself wanted Cas to. He desperately wanted him to. And then it hit him: if anxiety could take control of his actions, why not other emotions? At the moment, this choice emotion seemed to be something in between bravery and stupidity, but he hopped out from under the desk, his heart still racing like a madman, but this was a different kind of anxiety. This was anxiety with promise.

Unfortunately for his ego, he hit his head, and various other body parts, on his way up from underneath. His entrance into Cas' view was by no means graceful or coordinated.

Dick looked from Cas to Dean, not looking surprised in the least.

"I don't know what you see in him." Dick mumbled to Cas.

"Dean?"

"Hiya, Cas." He felt he would have been taken a bit more seriously if he didn't have a grin tugging at his lips.

Dean expected a number of things to happen. What he didn't expect, however, was for Cas to go bright red in the face and run out of the room.

Dick simply stared at the door.

"Cas?" Dean called. "Cas!" He ran out to follow the boy.

School had ended an hour ago, maybe a bit more. The halls were filled to the brim with emptiness. They seemed glad to have two desperately running boys tarnishing it.

Cas rushed into a room. It was familiar. It was Mrs. Hester's.

They had been in this room nearly every day, passing notes to one another and purposefully not paying attention. But for the past two weeks it had been different. They didn't sit together. Dean sat with a bunch of kids who were obnoxious and pointless and Cas sat alone. Dean would look at him. He couldn't see any sign of pain, or hurt, and a selfless part of himself was glad for it.

Cas stood against the whiteboard, huddling in on himself, as if preparing for an attack.

"Castiel?"

"Please leave, Dean."

"Are... are you okay?"

"What the Hell were you doing in there?!" Cas snapped. "Were you spying on me? Is that it? Haven't you done enough already?!"

"Cas-"

"No! I'm not fucking done!" He maintained, testing the word on his tongue. Dean didn't think it suited him. "You just ran off, Dean! Do you know how much I needed you? I've been there for you, every time, but the second that I need help, you go. How am I supposed to react to that, Dean? I thought you cared about me. Then I told you 'I love you', and what did you say? You said-"

"'I gotta go.'" They quoted in unison. They went quiet.

"Cas, I'm so sorry."

"How lowly do you believe I think of myself?"

"What?"

"You ended our relationship. You broke my heart. Now you expect me to jump at the chance to be with you again? Am I supposed to win you back?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what? What could you possibly get out of talking to me!?"

"I just want my best friend back! Cas, I can't stand the thought of living without you. I look back on the days before we met and I don't understand how I got through 'em. If you just want to be friends, then fine, we'll just be friends. Call me selfish, but I need you in my life." He sighed. "God, Cas, when did you make me such a girl?"

"I suspect your internal genitalia was simply remaining dormant considering how emotional that speech was."

"That sounds about right." Dean laughed in relief. "I missed you."

"I- I missed you too, Dean." He stumbled out.

"Of course I care about you, Cas." Dean said. "I care about you so much that I don't know what to do with myself."

"You could stand to do a better job showing it." He mumbled.

"Cas, you need to know that I'll be right here whenever you want me."

"Listen, Dean; either you're there for me all the time, or I need to learn how to get through my problems without you. When you left, for the first time since I've known you, you made me want to pick the latter. I knew how to be alone before. I'm sure I can do it again."

"Please do." Dean nearly whispered.

"What?" He sounded hurt.

"Cas, I will support you whenever I can, but there are times that I won't be around. Just because we care about each other doesn't mean we should need the other to survive. We should still be able to act outside of us."

"I did."

"You did, what?"

"I acted outside of us." He paused, "I saw my mother, Dean." tears began to fill his eyes at whatever memory was plaguing him.

"Oh god, Cas." He walked toward the scared boy. "What happened?"

"We went to Nebraska. Dean, please remind me never to go back there." He laughed, bitterly. "She has a family. Two kids, a boy and a girl. I don't remember their names, I didn't want to. I suppose that was vindictive of me. The children have done nothing wrong, it's our mother who's sinned, and I know her name. But I guess that was never really by choice. She has a dog. A golden lab, it was beautiful. A husband, who looks a lot like my father, based on the pictures I've seen."

"Did you talk to her?"

"I did, Gabriel refused, and Anna came along so that I wouldn't be alone. That's the good thing that has come out of this. I got my sister back." He took a long breath in. "We knocked on her door, we figured it was the best way to do it. She opened it, alone. It was the best case scenario and it still sucked." A tear fell down his cheek that Dean fought the urge to wipe away. He did, however, take another step forward. "She didn't recognize us, not right away. She thought we were Jehovah's Witnesses." Another laugh. "You'd expect more of a look of surprise on the face of a woman who'd been tracked down by her long-lost children. She just kind of stood there. She smiled politely a bit, invited us inside. She was alone. We talked about nothing, it was small talk at its most benign. Then her family came home. Her, well, her real family. They were all coming home from soccer practice." He snickered. "She didn't kick us out. She hardly even acknowledged us. We were introduced, and even her husband didn't seem alarmed. She offered us to stay for dinner, but we declined. We kindly declined! Why were we kind!? We should have been screaming!" A tear sprinted from his eye to the floor and Cas laughed at the sight. "God, I had no idea how right they were when they said apathy was worse than hatred." Cas stopped, and Dean took another step, beginning to close what felt like miles between them, he put a hand on the other boy's shoulder.

"Who needs her, Cas? You turned out amazing." He said.

"Dean, you've got to understand, it's just that, sometimes, what kept me going was the thought that somewhere out there, she was miserable. Now that's shattered. She's happy and she's moved on."

"Well, I gotta tell you, Cas, she doesn't know what she's missing. You and Gabe are two of the greatest people I know."

"Thank you, Dean"

"I mean it."

"I know you do." Cas responded.

Dean pulled him into a hug that Cas returned.

Funny how a new tragedy forces you to move on from the last.

"Please, Cas. Just... just give me a chance to fix this. I need you in my life. I need you."

Cas took a long breath. "Maybe."

Then, Dean took a chance. "Hey, w-w-would you want to see a movie this weekend?"

Cas hesitated. "Okay."

"Okay?!" He yelped, embarrassed by the noise that came out of his mouth.

"Okay." Cas confirmed. "A stutter is cute on you, Dean Winchester."

"So, what color were they?" Dean continued.

"Were what?" Cas asked, confused.

"Her eyes. What color were her eyes?"

Recognition showed on Cas' face. "Dark brown. Almost black."

"Nothing like yours." Dean pointed out.

"No, I guess not." Cas cracked a quick smile.

If anxiety could take control of his actions, why not other emotions? Like hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, guys! Thank you so much for being so great and kind about this story! Next time is going to be the last chapter, I'm afraid. But, fret not! Afterwards comes a series of one-shots in this same 'verse written upon the reader's requests. I've written one so far and am in the process of another. So, although the technical story may be coming to a close, there's more to hear about in their lives! I'll be opening up the floor to recommendations (or things you'd just like to read) from this verse when this story is technically completed (after the posting of the last chapter). It should be posted somewhat soon.
> 
> Have a great day, everybody! And thanks again!


	19. Chapter 19

It was going to go right. It had to go right.

"Relax, Dean. He'll love it." Sam said as Dean paced around the motel room.

Strange choice of words.

He'd planned the whole thing himself, and that made it all the more terrifying. Dean wasn't great with anything too romantic. He'd tried with Cas, sure, but clearly he wasn't often successful. This was different, though. There was no margin for error. Just this once, everything had to be perfect.

His nerves were overwhelming, but not unpleasantly so. He was scared of a possible rejection, of course, but he was equally as excited at the possibility of happiness.

"Should we tell Gabe?" Dean blurted, attempting to find another topic.

"Just take it one step at a time, man." Sam deflected.

Upon Sam's insistence, Dean had taken some money out of the college fund he'd set up for him. Not that it's much of a problem. Dean thought. The kid's so smart he'll just get a scholarship anyway.

Luckily for his savings, it wasn't too expensive. Dean felt a little bad benefiting from the financial catastrophe that was their tiny, local movie theater, but not anywhere near bad enough.

Dean chanced a glance down at his watch. It took three looks for him to actually understand what it was saying.

6:30: showtime.

They both drove separately. It was a better idea. There didn't have to be any awkward small talk in the car, they could both leave alone if need be (he prayed that wouldn't be the case), and Cas wouldn't know how scared-shitless Dean was until it was too late. Huh, that sounded a lot less malicious in Dean's head.

Dean got to the theater about twenty minutes early, so he had plenty of time to think of all the things that could potentially go wrong. But he was feeling that same, new, type of anxiety. It felt a little something like exhilaration.

He tapped his fingers in an easy pattern on his knee as it bounced up and down. It was difficult, but not unmanageable. He thought of blue eyes and a rough voice as the minutes passed by.

Cas wouldn't stand him up.

Would he?

"Oh, god, please no." Dean grumbled.

"'Please no' what, Dean?" The aforementioned voice questioned.

Dean couldn't help the little smile that passed his lips.

"Nothing, Cas. It's nothing. I got our tickets already."

"Thank you." He said, taking the offered paper. "What are we seeing?"

"Just be patient." Dean lead the way, heart still hammering in his chest.

"Is it good?"

"Yeah, Cas. It's... it's fucking fantastic."

Dean resisted the urge to grab Cas' hand as they walked into the last room down the hallway on the right, the same theater where they saw their first movie.

He held the door open for Cas, impulsively thinking 'I am one chivalrous bastard.' before he could get the better of himself and tell his mind to shut up.

They walked into the only partially darkened space to see each cushioned chair empty.

"Is there really no one else here?" Cas asked incredulously, turning back to Dean.

"I should think so, considering I reserved the theater."

"What are you talking about?"

Dean proceeded to take a small, black remote control out of his jean pocket. He pressed the biggest button in the middle and the projector in back began to warm up. Pixel by pixel, a picture began to show itself.

"Dean, what is this?" Cas asked, eyes widening to super-human levels.

"This... this is us." The picture finished loading. It was of them. It was their first snow angel, that night at the motel. The low quality of his camera phone made it a bit blurry while being fitted to such a large screen, but Cas didn't seem to care at all.

Dean clicked the right-side button on the remote, allowing the next slide time to pixilate.

Dean looked over to Cas to see his eyes watering, tears threatening to fall. , he looked to Dean, his jaw dropping, he still managed to give a hopeful smile.

The next picture appeared. It was of them the following day, after they'd driven away from the hospital. Just after they'd written their names in the snow.

"You kept them?" Cas asked.

"Of course I did." Dean smiled. He clicked the button, the machine now projecting much faster.

This one was of them at the park. Sam was off perfecting his snow-fort from enemy attacks, and they snuck off momentarily. Cas chuckled a bit at the memory.

"You know, Cas." He began. Cas looked over to him. "Here's the thing with these huge romantic gestures: I'm supposed to tell you exactly when I fell in love with you, but I can't. I don't have an exact moment in time when I realized 'He's it. He's the one.'. But I did realize it. One step at a time. I fell in love with you in a series of events. Each one, sending me just a little bit farther than I was before. First I loved you a little, then I loved you more, then I loved you a lot. But I always did love you. I was just too stupid to figure it out. But I did figure it out. Maybe too late, but, dammit, I got there eventually. And now I love you so much I can hardly stand it. And you might tell me it's just a bunch of chemicals running around in my head, but that doesn't matter to me. This is the way I feel, and I'm not scared that I'll ever stop feeling this way. As long as these chemicals exist in me, I know that they'll always make me feel this way about you. The only thing I am scared of is that the ones in your head that make you so smart are telling you to get the Hell away from this jackass before he does something else stupid, like tries to make you happy for the rest of his life."

"Dean-" Cas started, being cut off by his own tears.

"I'm an idiot. I am the idiot to out-idiot all idiots. In the dictionary, there's a picture of me next to the word 'idiot'." He paused. "I'm such an idiot that I can't come up with a word to insult myself with other than 'idiot'."

"There's no need to insult yourself, creatively or otherwise." Cas laughed a bit, using the knuckle of his index finger to wipe away a stray tear.

"No way, Cas. I deserve all the creative insults in the world. I panicked, all that stuff about moms and how serious we were, it was just too much. I've never felt this way about anyone before, Cas. And it's damn terrifying. It feels like I don't have any control over it anymore. Before, I could just let it fester under the surface and get stronger and stronger, but now... Cas, what I feel for you is nothing but pure, unadulterated love."

"What has gotten into you?" Cas asked. Allowing Dean to wipe away a tear falling down his cheek.

"Call it perspective." Dean replied, stroking his face with his thumb.

"It's recent." Cas added. Putting his hand on Dean's wrist.

"That's the thing about perspective, you gotta go through something awful to get it." Dean met Cas' eyes. "But it changes how you see everything good in your life." Dean said, observing the minute movements of Cas' pupils in the vast blue. "Perspective is a wonderful inconvenience."

"I don't know what to say."

"I do."

"And what is that?"

"I love you, Cas. So, I stand here... wait a minute." Dean got down to his knees, assuming a begging position. "I kneel here, asking for the privilege to do so. And maybe, if I'm real lucky, get you to love me too." Dean took a huge breath in, looking up at Cas.

Cas looked down briefly, "I still do." he said.

"What?" Dean asked, eyes perking up.

"You told me not to get over you. I didn't."

"I thought you'd never want to see me again."

"You give yourself too much credit." He smirked, getting on his knees, and placing himself directly in front of Dean.

"Cas?" Dean asked, hope sneaking its way into his prompting words.

Cas comfortably situated himself on the floor, shifting a bit in his impromptu seat. "Dean Winchester, big brother extraordinaire, and self-proclaimed idiot, I love you."

"You love me?" Dean laughed.

"I do." Cas smiled.

"And I love you!" Dean stood up, grabbing Cas' hand and yanking him too. "We love each other!"

"We do." Dean pulled Cas into a hug.

Cas laughed a bit, Dean pulled back and he saw him smile. One of those real smiles. One of the ones he fell in love with.

Dean hadn't realized he'd been staring at Cas' mouth until he registered the other boy doing the same.

"Dean?" Cas asked.

"Yeah?" They briefly met eyes.

"May I kiss you?"

"You'd better."

Their lips met. It wasn't new, it was familiar and loving and all the things Dean had wanted. Cas pressed his lips more firmly to Dean's than he ever had before, and Dean let out a small moan. Cas pulled back, the sound of suction releasing filling the theater.

"I love you." Dean said, amazed that the words were coming out of his mouth. "I love you!"

"I love you." Cas mimicked.

Cas kissed him again.

"I love you." Dean couldn't believe it. He laughed, ecstatic.

"You know, I never thought I would." Cas started. "But if this isn't love then there's simply no such thing. I love you, Dean. I love you." Cas kissed Dean's cheek. "I love you." And the other cheek. "I love you!" Dean pulled him in for a real kiss.

"I love you too, Cas. Goddammit, I love you."

They laughed in each other's air, kissing frantically and desperately. They loved each other.

"Dean?" He paused, pulling back a bit. "Can I tell you something?" Cas fought to catching his breath.

Dean nodded. "Mmhmm."

"Do you remember when we first met?"

"Of course." Dean wrapped his arms around Cas' waist.

"And you remember that someone bumped into you?"

"And you picked me up." Dean nuzzled into Cas' cheek.

"That was Gabriel."

Dean pulled his head away and laughed. "What?" he said, breathlessly.

"Well, we were in the... the Prius, and I wasn't responding to any of his questions, but he kept seeing me stare at you near your car. He asked me if I 'liked' you which, obviously, I denied." Cas saw a small look of sadness on Dean's face. "I did like you of course." He quickly corrected. "Who knows? Maybe even then I loved you." He stopped abruptly, as if realizing he shouldn't have said that. "I mean, I just loved you a little. I just loved what you looked like." He stopped again. "Oh, no, that's not what I meant either." Dean could tell he was mortified, Cas' cheeks were burning red.

"Are you saying that you thought I was hot?" He asked, arrogantly.

"What? No! I don't know." Cas responded, throwing out any answer that came to mind other than an affirmative.

"That's your weird way of saying you thought I was attractive; isn't it?!" Dean laughed.

"I- um... well, I-"

"I thought you were hot." Dean confessed.

"What?" Cas said, unbelievingly.

"I thought you had the most gorgeous eyes I'd ever seen. They were the only things keeping me conscious. You're stunning, Cas. You gotta know that."

"Dean, I appreciate the sentiment, but there's no reason to lie." Cas looked up to Dean.

Dean became distressed, "I'm not lying. Why do you think I'm lying?" he lifted Cas' chin up with his hand and brushed his hair out of his face.

"You're far more attractive than I could ever hope to be. You are breathtaking, Dean. Every part of you is more beautiful than the last."

"Cas, you're amazing. I just can't believe you don't see it. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Boys, girls, whatever. I don't care. Cas, you're in a league of your own." He paused, noticing something was missing. "But it's not just that either, most people would consider themselves lucky just to look like you. They'd take it for granted and that would be it for them. But you? You've got a personality. You're a freaking genius, man! You've got so much to give. You're hilarious without even trying to be. You're incredible. I'm so lucky to love you."

Cas pulled him into a bone-crunching hug that Dean, without the full-function of his lungs, returned.

"Cas, I can't breathe." He muttered.

"Well, then try harder."

"If I kissed you, would you let me go?"

"There's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

So he did, and this time, Dean held on tight.

"So, continuing on..." Cas attempted as Dean kissed along his jawline. "Gabe didn't believe me. He said I was lying."

"Which you were?"

"Which I was." He answered. "He ran out of the car before I could stop him and attempted to tackle you. Considering his below-average size, I didn't think he'd do much damage, but he did manage to make you stumble and, inevitably, fall flat on your face. He ran back to the car immediately afterward and gave me the smuggest look in the world. After being knocked down like that, of course I had to help you up. And, of course, you had to start singing show-tunes."

"You didn't have to help me up, Cas."

"Any decent person would have."

"You're far better than decent."

"I love you, Dean."

"I love you, Cas."

It wasn't perfect; nothing ever is. But Dean was confident that this was pretty damn close.

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! It's over! Now I'd like to know if any of you guys have any ficlet ideas you'd like for me to write in this 'verse. I'd be more than happy to! Just send me a message, or post it in a comment! Thank you so much for reading, please leave kudos, subscribe (in the case of ficlets), and comment! It means so much to me. Really. Thank you guys!
> 
> DFTBA!
> 
> P.S. I already have one-shot written in this 'verse, and it should be up shortly. I'm in the process of writing another which should be up (hopefully) soon, as well.
> 
> Thanks again, you awesome people!


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